transatlanticism
by meowfactory
Summary: 2010, Akihiko & Minako. Forgetting the Dark Hour and falling in love again. Maybe it would be different if we could just give it another go-around. Remember me. Try your best, maybe we can.
1. the new year

_so this is the new year  
and I don't feel any different_

_so this is the new year  
and I have no resolutions  
_  
**01. the new year**  
07/02/2010 

"I can't believe you actually watch this!" Yukari teased, watching Minako feverishly dial the number displayed on the TV screen. The theme music started up again, signalling Tanaka was all out of stock. Minako huffed, dropping her cell on her desk in outrage.

"I missed out last week as well," she sighed, sitting on her swivelling study chair and propping her stocking-clad feet on the desk. "I really wanted that Yawn-Be-Gone package..."

Yukari just shook her head. No way she was going to admit she had nearly cried when she hadn't been able to get an All-Purpose-Apron a few months back. She was lying on her back atop Minako's bed, staring at her alarm clock waiting for noon to come by. This felt like the first 'proper' Sunday they'd had in a long time, though Yukari couldn't really recall why. Even though the year had just started, a weight seemed to have been lifted from her shoulders. It was disconcerting. Instead, she focused on Minako's cheery clock, how dusty her lamp was, the elaborate music box...

"Hey, this is really cute. When'd you get it?" Yukari lifted it up over her head, noticing how light it was. There were multiple compartments, obviously for jewellery, but all that was there at the moment were bobby pins and some movie ticket stubs. A mirror graced the inside of the lid, and the tune the music box itself played made her feel sentimental. Minako had started painting her fingernails, and only glanced over when the music began to play.

"Oh, Akihiko-senpai gave it to me for Christmas."

Cue beat panel. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Yukari gently placed the music box back next to the clock, then jumped up on Minako's bed, looking as though she was struggling to breathe.

"THAT Akihiko-senpai?"

"Well, do you know any others?" Minako retorted sharply, feeling her face heat up. Okay, so now that she thought about it, it was a bit strange. A lot strange. It had just felt so natural, seeing it there every morning. She hadn't considered how it had come to be hers or why someone like Akihiko Sanada would give it to her.

"Oh my God. Oh. My. God." Yukari fell back down on the bed, laughing to the point of tears. "I mean, oh my God! Does anyone else know? Does his fan club know? Oh my God, does Mitsuru-senpai know?"

"There's nothing TO know, Yukari." Minako replied, distress bleeding into her voice. Her face felt hot and flushed and her hands were shaking. She set aside the small tube of nail polish, even though she'd only managed to paint the first three fingernails on her left hand. The other girl was still laughing, and Minako was praying for something, anything... Her phone rang. The brunette sighed in relief; she could totally kiss whoever had decided to call at that moment. Oh, Junpei. Alright, maybe not.

"Junpei! What's up?" Minako ignored Yukari's exaggerated eye roll, straining to smile as he asked her if she had any plans. "Well, me and Yukari are going to lunch, do you wanna come with? I was thinking Hagakure."

"Wait, what? Forget it, it's way too fattening. We should go to Wakatsu," Yukari interjected loudly, rolling over on Minako's bed to lie on her stomach and glaring at the phone as if Junpei could actually see her. Well, at least now maybe she'd leave the whole 'music box' thing alone.

"Sushi? No way! What about the beef bowl place?" Junpei replied, the grin evident in his tone. It was no surprise he could hear Yukari's shrill voice over the phone. Then again, it was possible he'd heard it through the ceiling. This was going to take a while, and Minako had the feeling the two would continue to disagree just to spite each other.

"Junpei, I'm putting you on speaker," Minako set her cell down on the edge of the bed closer to Yukari. "Junpei says Beef Bowl - any objections?"

"What? That's even worse than Hagakure! Why does he have to come anyway?" The two argued for a while, Yukari becoming increasingly incensed and Junpei going out of his way to get on her nerves. Finally, Minako cut in.

"We are going to compromise. Compromise means... HAGAKURE. Come on, Yukari, you can always have tuna." Yukari sighed, then finally relented, and Junpei suggested Wild Duck Burger but quickly clammed up when Minako threatened to stab him in the eye with a hot french fry should they be forced to eat there.

"Alright, Hagakure it is! I'll meet you guys downstairs." Junpei sounded excited. Minako picked up her phone and ended the call before slipping it into the pocket of her skirt. She fumbled through her desk drawers, panicking briefly when she couldn't find her MP3 player, then realising it was probably still entangled in her school uniform. Grabbing her scarf and her headphones from the closet, she headed for the bedroom door.

"Well, let's get going." Yukari nodded in response and pulled herself up off Minako's bed, glancing at the music box next to her alarm clock once more. Definitely weird. She'd have to bring it up again another time, when Minako wasn't so on edge. Really, it wasn't even that big a deal. Okay, so it was, but she couldn't really say that, could she? The pair met Junpei in the second floor hallway, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet with impatience. The instant he met Minako's gaze, his face split into a bright smile, which faltered ever so slightly when Yukari spoke.

"Jeez, Junpei, do you ever not wear that dumb hat? I'm starting to wonder if you even have hair under there." She flicked her hair back, coolly brushing past him and walking down the stairs. Minako threw him an apologetic glance to which Junpei shrugged before following Yukari down to the lounge.

"C'mon, Yuka-tan, this hat gives me plus two defence against girls!" Junpei replied loudly as he and Minako exchanged a quick smirk.

Minako knew, given the choice, both of them would have preferred to have spent the day alone with her. Yukari was nowhere near as much of a... drama queen when she and Minako were alone, and Junpei dropped all of his pretensions and they always genuinely had a good time. Together, she got less of both of them. Minako shook the thought from her mind. It was a bit conceited, after all.

"Ugh, whatever, Stupei. If you're so obsessed with that Online Sin gam-"

"Innocent Sin Online." Both Minako and Junpei corrected in unison, and Yukari pulled the most offended expression the two had ever seen. It was Minako who started snickering first, Junpei joining in obnoxiously, and Yukari rolled her eyes once before letting her features relax into a dainty smile. Which, they noticed a bit too late, was not directed at them.

"Oh, Senpai. I didn't realise you were here." Yukari spoke liltingly, glancing back at Minako and raising her eyebrows suggestively. Minako cringed, trying to telepathically communicate with the other girl in some small measure - 'shut up shut up shut up shut up...'

"Hey," Akihiko replied, nonplussed. He looked up and smiled half-heartedly, then went back to stitching up his boxing gloves. How the things had managed to get so damaged in training, he just couldn't figure out. "I'm waiting for Mitsuru, we have a friend in the hospital we're going to visit."

"Oh, yeah, Shinjiro-senpai, right? I hope he recovers soon." Yukari replied awkwardly. Akihiko nodded, but didn't even bother to look up. Yukari coughed. Akihiko kept sewing. "Okay. You know what would be great? Changing the subject!" The girl stared at Minako with a blatant 'help me' expression on her face, and Minako just grinned back triumphantly.

"Uh, that's a cool scarf, senpai," Junpei interjected, and Yukari had the good grace to look both surprised and thankful. The scarf itself was nice, Minako agreed. She had made it, after all. The wool was dark red, close in colour to the sweater vest Akihiko wore with his uniform. Big stars were knitted throughout in a slightly lighter red. The trim on either end was cream coloured to match his casual blazer and slacks.

"Ha. Thanks. Minako-chan made it."

Silence. Minako could feel both Junpei and Yukari's eyes on her, and she was fairly certain she looked like she was having an aneurysm. Akihiko seemed even more fascinated by his boxing gloves, but Minako could see his stitches becoming uneven. He looked up tentatively, his cheeks dusted pink, and she felt something warm and familiar flare up in her chest. But when their eyes met, she felt little else but confusion, as if she had forgotten something very important.

"Cool. Heh. Anyway. We should get going," Junpei cut in, and Minako really could have kissed him right there. He nudged her over to the front door, opening it and lightly pushing Minako out in front of him. "C'mon, Yuka-tan, hurry up!"

"R-right!" Yukari tore her eyes from her senpai, rushing out after Junpei and closing the door behind her. She felt Akihiko's eyes upon them as they passed the window. The walk to the strip mall was undertaken in silence, Junpei at Minako's right hand and Yukari walking a few paces ahead of them. Eventually, Junpei, her saviour, her best friend, broke the ice between them.

"I can't believe you're actually getting tuna at Hagakure." Yukari stopped, waiting the two seconds it took for them to catch up to her, and fell in step with Minako.

"...Forget the tuna, Stupei. We're getting the special."

"Can I get appetisers as well?" Minako asked with a grin. Yukari snorted, Junpei burst out laughing. It was the best sound she'd heard all year. 

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own P3P, it owns me.**

**A/N: **The original plan was put iTunes on shuffle, then write something small for each song. This was before I realised how much garbage I have in my iTunes. Then it became, "Okay, I'll do it for P3P, but I'll just put all my Death Cab for Cutie albums on shuffle". And eventually, it came down to Transatlanticism, my favourite of the lot. I know right now it's all about the POWER OF JUNPE... I MEAN, FRIENDSHIP, but hopefully you'll enjoy it...  
Set mostly in February 2010 (not in chronological order, there will probably be flashbacks/forwards), S.E.E.S. have lost their memory of Persona, the Dark Hour, and social links (kind of).

Track 02 is 'lightness' and it's on the way.


	2. lightness

_there's a tear in the fabric  
of your favourite dress  
and I'm sneaking glances  
looking for the patterns in static  
they start to make sense  
the longer I'm at it_

_ivory lines lead..._

_oh, instincts are misleading  
you shouldn't think what you're feeling  
they don't tell you what  
you know you should want_

**02. lightness  
**11/02/2010

The magician was her right hand, her sword. The emperor was her shield, always a step before her, ever vigilant, while justice trailed behind in her shadow. And there were stairs, so many stairs, and black, and a sound, like shrieking...

"Shu'up," Minako mumbled, face full of pillow, as she brought her hand down hard on the shrill, analog alarm clock. Six in the morning, right. Yawning, she pulled herself up and rubbed her eyes before finally looking at her calendar. Thursday. Today was National Foundation Day. There was no school today. "What?" She stared at the square containing the date, noticing a tiny note in the corner in her own loopy cursive - 'do your laundry :)'.

Well, it made sense. Getting it done in the morning would free up her weekend, and leave her with enough time in the afternoon to drag Fuuka to Bookworms - they had gotten in some ancient hard sci-fi novels that Minako herself had been a bit enamoured by. Besides, being up this early meant she could wear her 'laundry day' clothes to her leisure.

She showered first, towel-drying her hair and slipping into a white bra and panties, then hunted in her closet for the old yukata she used to wear around the house when she lived with her aunt a few years back. Minako had outgrown it now - the bottom was a good six inches shy of her ankles and pale pink had nearly faded to gray, but it wrapped around her slim figure well enough.

There was a tear though, at the left underarm seam, going all the way down to where her hips began. She bit her lip, considering. If she secured it with an obi sash, the tear would be inconsequential... but why put so much effort in? She'd only be wearing the thing until she washed and dried her clothes, and she could always hang out in the laundry room until then. Well, that was that. Minako belted the yukata, picked up her basket of clothes and a book, and headed to the laundry room on the first floor.

Taking advantage of the two machines, Minako separated her clothes into darks and lights. She was half a load short now for each pile, but if she adjusted the water level...

"...Morning."

That voice. Great. Minako turned around slowly, carefully, feeling jittery without good reason. Of course Akihiko would be up and about at six-thirty in the morning. He had probably already gone for a run, done a hundred sit-ups, and eaten some protein rich breakfast only to do another hundred sit-ups. And then, out of all the places in Iwatodai to be, he had chosen to wander in to the laundry of their dorm. Super. The last thing she needed was Yukari bugging her about this again.

He was already dressed, of course, in his standard winter wear, minus one scarf. Minako knew exactly why, and it was the same reason her treasured music box was hidden away in her dresser drawer. Suddenly she felt very shabby, caught wandering about in an old yukata with her hair up in all directions. But he smiled, a smile she recognised even though she couldn't quite remember seeing before, and she felt her lips twitch up despite herself.

"Good morning, Senpai. I didn't think anyone else would be awake." Noting that he actually did have a full laundry basket in his hands, she laughed awkwardly. "I've kind of taken up both the machines... Sorry, just give me a second, I'll empty one."

"Don't worry about it," he replied easily, letting himself in and closing the door behind him. "I'll just put mine in with yours." Without even waiting for an okay, he loaded his (already sorted, the boy was meticulous) clothing into the separate machines, adding detergent and starting the cycle.

It was strange, it was just so... intimate. Minako chided herself as soon as she had the thought. He was a boy. He probably didn't attach much significance to laundry. Wait, why was she attaching such significance to laundry?

They passed the time in a comfortable silence, both perched on the bench-top where the detergents and fabric softeners were. Minako was deeply absorbed in the first novel of the Witch Detective series, which Akihiko seemed to be reading over her shoulder as he embroidered another pair of boxing gloves. He evidently found it hilarious, trying to contain his laughter every time she got to a flowery love scene between Edmund and Mariabelle, and she glared at him, pulling the book close to her chest. Witch Detective was serious business.

"I'm sorry," he said between chuckles, setting the gloves down on the bench and leaning back. "It's just, wow. Is that how it is?" Not quite sarcasm, but getting there. Minako's 'outrage' face only made him laugh harder. He was saved by the washing machines, beeping one after the other as they finished their cycles. Akihiko made to get up but Minako was faster, sliding down off the bench and stopping him. By placing her hand against his knee.

"It's alright, I got it," she said cheerily, smiling up at him, then realised exactly what she was doing. She recoiled and he flinched as if he'd been struck, clearing his throat and murmuring a low 'thanks'. Mortified, Minako whirled around and went over to the machines, pulling out the damp clothes and transferring them to the dryer. She could feel Akihiko's eyes on her the entire time, and she wanted to run, to _get out of there _as quickly as possible. There was something odd, some other feeling superimposed on her anxiety, her embarrassment. Something soft and warm coiled within her chest and belly, waiting.

Minako took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, and walked back over to the bench. Akihiko had averted his eyes now, studying her Witch Detective novel as if it were the most intriguing thing he had ever seen.

"You can borrow it if you like. They're addictive." She tried to make her tone teasing, but it just came out sounding uneasy. Akihiko nodded wordlessly, features impassive. She had the feeling he would made the same expression had she said she liked mudkips. Minako boosted herself back up on the bench with her hands, staring straight ahead, ignoring the shifting sounds Akihiko was making next to her. She started when something warm and heavy was draped on her shoulders - his jacket.

"Your yukata..." He trailed off, refusing to look her in the eye, ears turning pink. _Oh. _And because she couldn't leave well enough alone, she raised her arm to study the tear, accidentally shrugging the jacket off. A lot more of her creamy skin was exposed than she had realised, the clean white lines of her underwear standing out against the surrounding fabric. She looked up at him, wanting to explain, but started speaking before she could stop herself.

"I know." It was a challenge and they were at a stalemate; Minako studying the shift of his Adam's apple in his throat as he swallowed, Akihiko looking everywhere and anywhere except the exposed skin of her waist. His gloved hands trembled as he reached out for her, hovering over her shoulders, her arms, and God, he'd never known what to do with his hands, had he? She took them in her own, running her fingers over thin leather and twisted knuckles. Whether it was by instinct or design, she knew where each old scar was without seeing, knew that the index and middle fingers on his right hand didn't bend quite as well as they used to. He favoured his left hand and it showed even through the gloves, each once dislocated finger made evident by prominent, knobbly knuckles.

_I know you. I've known you my whole life._

She guided his hands to her waist, resting her own on his shoulders. The sharp staccato of her heartbeat was loud enough to block out everything, the sound of the dryer, his rough, shallow breathing. He had a mark on the bridge of his nose, a remnant of one of his third year boxing matches. There was a scar underneath his chin, from the day he and Shinjiro-senpai had thought it would be a good idea to slide on their stomachs while playing at the shrine. Minako knew the lines like they were her own, as if she had watched as they etched themselves onto his skin. Akihiko's hands were travelling up and down her sides, and she winced slightly as the cold, bare skin of his wrist brushed against her ribs.

And that was enough - the feeling of skin on skin finally made it real. Akihiko pulled back sharply, looking lethal, on the verge of panic. For a moment he seemed lost, and frightened, and Minako wanted to tell him to stop, just stop, just wait for one second please just wait. He was already off the counter and backing away, staring at her like she was a ghost or a phantom, as if he looked away she could just disappear. But he was the one who was gone, his haunted eyes the last thing Minako saw as he slammed the door shut. She couldn't move. Seconds passed like minutes. It was only when the dryers stopped rumbling that she got up, her bare feet slipping against the tiled floor.

Numb, she sorted their clothes, folding all of them neatly and placing them in the separate baskets. She even have the sense to retrieve the jacket Akihiko had left behind, adding it to his pile. After a moment's consideration, she threw her Witch Detective book in his basket as well. Minako grabbed a skirt and sweater from her own basket, leaning against the door as she took of her yukata and slipped on her clothes. She raked her fingers through her hair, trying to get back some semblance of self-control.

Picking up her laundry, Minako tentatively wandered into the lounge, breathing a sigh of relief as she saw Junpei with his COMPstation Portable at the dining table.

"Junpei... Is Akihiko-senpai around?"

"Nah, he left a while ago, actually. Didn't even say anything." Junpei shook his head while looking at the door, before casting his eyes on her. "Hey, are you alright?"

No. Her knees felt weak and her hands were shaking and no matter how many times she inhaled her lungs felt short on air, like something had constricted inside her chest. She put the laundry basket down for fear of dropping it.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired. I woke up _way_ too early today." She tried to smile.

"Okay," he replied simply, and Minako was grateful that Junpei was not the type to call her out on her blatant lies, "but I'm still going to carry that up for you."

"Really, Junpei, it's fine-"

"Hey, I'm a gentleman!" Minako laughed in spite of herself, close to tears, and nodded her thanks. The pair walked up the stairs to her room, Junpei stopping outside and setting the basket of clothes at her feet. "Still got the COMPstation I gave you? Let's play a round of multiplayer on Odin Cube later."

Minako nodded again, not trusting her voice, and Junpei just smiled that stupid smile, punching her shoulder affectionately. She watched him retreat downstairs, and felt her lip begin to tremble. Kicking the basket into her room, she shoved the door closed and threw herself into bed.

Encased within the warm cocoon of her covers, Minako could only choke, and shudder, and weep; desperately pressing her hands against her chest to make sure her heart was still beating.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own P3P, it owns me.**

**A/N:** Wow, guys, thanks for your reviews & all your support! I hope you enjoy the chapter. I didn't. Ugh.  
You can listen to the Death Cab For Cutie song 'Lightness' here: www[dot]youtube[dot]com[slash]watch?v=VJtqmdBL4js  
(take out all the silly things, of course)

Next track is 'title and registration', and it will probably be a short one.


	3. title and registration

_the glove compartment  
is inaccurately named  
and everybody knows it  
so I'm proposing a swift orderly change_

_because behind it's door  
there's nothing to keep my fingers warm  
and all I find are souvenirs from better times_

_and here I rest  
where disappointment and regret  
collide  
lying awake at night_

**03. title and registration**  
11/02/2010

There were days when Akihiko wanted to bump into strangers on crowded streets. It had only started recently. There was a time when, after club, he would feel satiated, and that short session of boxing in the afternoon was enough to quell his need. It wasn't cutting it anymore. He felt tense and wound up, on the verge of frenzy.

Last night he had trained, punching the sandbag strung up in his room with a ferocity he didn't quite understand, but it was still too little. Eventually, he had taken off his gloves. His hands were a mess, scar tissue building bridges over abused knuckles, a few fingers oddly bent. He almost always kept them covered. But it was something he needed, and as the sandbag grazed his fists with each punch, he felt an undeniable relief.

Then there was_ her_. Really, Akihiko thought he had it all figured out. He had grown to be friends (sort of) with the underclassmen who lived at the dorm. And Minako was sweet, there was no denying that. He had thought he felt a sort of brotherly affection for her, for he liked to remember Miki in the same way - always bright, cheerful, happy. The funny thing about memories is that, given the time, you can chop and change them as much as you like.

Spending time with her in the laundry room had felt like... home. He was comfortable, his mind blessedly quiet. For a few moments, he forget about the tension in his shoulders and the tightness in his chest. But Minako just had to go and... and _change _things.

Her fingers running over his gloved knuckles, covered in fresh scrapes, had ached pleasantly. And he knew she trusted him, as she placed his hands on her waist. She was so tiny, really, it had taken everything in him not to squeeze the swell of her hips and leave bruises. All he could think about as her traced her ribs was how easily they would crack under his hand. Even the thought of pressing his lips to hers had too much possibility, of teeth and tearing and his hands around her neck.

Something horrible was happening inside of him and he didn't understand why.

Akihiko had done the only thing that made sense - he ran. Memory led him to the outskirts of Port Island Station, where he would always find Shinji after school, or when he needed him. His absence made the place even more desolate, but Aki was tired of running. He was cold and rueing the lack of his jacket, and leaning against the brick walls just made him shiver more. Nonetheless, he let himself sink down to the concrete.

This was where his best friend had been shot, and Akihiko felt his presence more tangibly here than when he was at his side at the hospital. He was still angry about it, that Shinji could be so stupid to involve himself in... whatever he'd involved himself in. Had he even thought about how Aki would feel? Akihiko's lip quirked - Shinji was always thinking about how he would feel. That was why the idiot never told him anything.

Akihiko's memory was the more accurate of the two, but Shinji recalled things Akihiko chose to forget.

Like his first fist fight. It was over before it had even really begun. Actually, the words 'fist fight' probably carried too strong a connotation. Akihiko and Shinjiro had been playing in the orphanage's grounds that afternoon - playing for them (at the tender age of ten, at least) being Aki kicking at the gravel while Shinji leaned against the wall trying to look cool.

Without any provocation, one of the older kids (try as he might, Akihiko could never remember his name) walked straight past Aki up to Shinjiro and called him a dickhead. Shinji, nonchalant as ever, simply made his soon-to-be signature 'tch' sound and let it go. Akihiko wasn't so forgiving. He had planned to get the guy in the back of the head or maybe the ear or something... okay, so there hadn't really been a plan. Either way, Shinji's eyes slid from the kid to Aki, widening in surprise, and that was what gave him away. Akihiko didn't even get a chance to lay a finger on the guy. He just felt the sudden, sharp crunch of knuckles against his jaw, the taste of blood, the dim awareness that Shinji was suddenly at his side punching the other kid in the ribs over and over.

He had to grow up to realise that Shinji was constantly holding back with him. As children, Akihiko had always jostled him with all his strength, while Shinji was content to let him win, even as they grew older and pushes turned to punches. He was the passive to Aki's aggressive. Apathy and passion were a difficult combination, and sometimes he wondered whether Shinjiro served more as his friend or his inversed reflection.

He had ran as fast as he could that day, leaving Shinji to finish what he had started. There was a cut somewhere in his mouth and the wound kept weeping, so he kept swallowing, feeling sick with shame. Even now, he couldn't outrun his humiliation. Over the years, the flavour of his own blood had stayed with him, and he found he'd gotten a taste for it.

There were things about himself he knew but didn't admit. Every time he had hit Shinji, Akihiko had wanted him to hit back. There was something about that moment, right after the crunch of a fist against flesh and bone, when you knew your face was going to smash against the pavement and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

When falling felt like flying.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own P3P, it owns me.**

**A/N: **This is running on the premise that FeMC did not have to bone Shinjiro to get him to put the pocketwatch which she already gave to him anyway in his breast pocket. Sorry Shinji. :(

FUN FACT: This was meant to be a far shorter filler chapter with Aki visiting Shinjiro in the hospital and talking out loud about all his, like, I don't know, FEELINGS and stuff. And then coming to some manly resolution and wooing FeMC so everything is wonderful forever. It still is a filler chapter but it's different to what I wanted (I think I like it better). Instead of listening to the song this chapter was named after, I was listening to The Others (TV Rock vs Dukes of Windsor). /fail  
Oh man, if only there was a Fight Club in Iwatodai.

Track four is 'expo '86', and it will (hopefully) get us back on track.


	4. expo '86

_sometimes it seems that I don't have the skills to recollect  
the twists and turns of plots that took us from lovers to friends  
I'm thinking I should take that volume back up off the shelf  
and crack it's weary spine and read to help remind myself_

_I am waiting for something to wrong  
I am waiting for familiar resolve_

_and I am waiting for that sense of relief  
I am waiting for you to flee the scene  
as if you held in your hand the smoking gun  
and on the floor lay the one you said you loved_

**04. expo '86**  
12/02/2010

"You're actually gonna do it, aren't you?" Junpei grinned, leaning against the monorail doors and fiddling with the straps of his backpack.

"Huh?" Minako had barely gotten any sleep, and was only half listening. After spending most of yesterday curled up in fetal position under her covers, she felt more than a little irritated with herself. Sure, she had an idea of what she was getting into - Akihiko-senpai seemed to have little to no awareness of the delicate nature of girls. But the odd sense of vertigo coupled with such a harsh rejection pushed her over the edge. Truth be told, she had expected him to feel the same. To look her in the eye and say something like, 'I've been waiting... waiting for you to make an appearance...'

Then again, she could have just been reading way too much Witch Detective.

"You're gonna go after Akihiko-senpai." Minako literally facepalmed. Junpei had had this idea in his head since the day they first started hanging out, and really, bringing it up again right now left him one small misstep away from a kick in the shins. But it was Junpei who had come back to check on her in the evening, Junpei who brought up cup ramen for the both of them to eat in silence in the third floor hallway. She sighed.

"Yeah, well, let's wait for him to come back first." And that was the thing - to Minako's knowledge, he hadn't come home last night. Junpei had texted her status reports from the lounge (most of them variations of 'M-senpai angry w/ raaage') until she couldn't keep her eyes open.

"Dude. I saw him this morning," Junpei lowered his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. "He was a _mess_. But not really," he amended quickly, upon witnessing Minako's horrified expression. "He just had a split lip. And a bit of a bruise over here." Junpei drew a circle in the air close to her right cheek with his index finger. "Good thing he didn't break his nose!" He punctuated the remark by tapping her nose, and she laughed despite herself, swatting him away.

"He must have come back sometime last night," Junpei concluded, "I think I heard Mitsuru-senpai yelling. I'm not sure, I had the TV on pretty loud."

"So, he's not coming to class today?" Minako swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling like she was being watched. A slight jolt sent her off balance, and Junpei's arm instantly shot out to steady her.

"Nah. I mean, yeah. I mean, I saw him waiting for the monorail. Mitsuru-senpai was on his tail, she looked like she wanted to execute him or something..." Junpei cocked his head, studying her carefully. "Look, just wait 'til we get home, okay? Last thing you need is to get mauled by his fangirls. Besides, he'll probably have club or something."

"...Yeah," Minako nodded, her lips twitching into a smile. Today was a Friday.

* * *

Mitsuru was emanating frost. Seriously. Just sitting next to her was giving him chills. Akihiko slipped on his uniform jacket, feeling her piercing gaze sweep over him for the hundredth time that morning. As if he was going to try and run away from her in a crowded carriage at peak hour (he had considered it, the likelihood of successful escape was less than zero).

When he'd walked through the front door a few minutes shy of midnight, Mitsuru had wasted no time. She'd delivered an armour-piercing slap, and he could only take solace in the fact that it was on the uninjured side of his face.

"How could you? After Shinjiro? How could _you_ do this to me?"

She spoke no more after that, just grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen and wiped the dried blood from his face and hands. All but pushing him to his room, she waited, looking like she was prepared to stand guard outside his door. He couldn't help it, he hugged her. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he closed his eyes, and he felt safe. Mitsuru just stood there limply, finally giving him a light squeeze in return before whacking him on the back of the head. Hard.

"Ow!"

"Go to sleep. I'll deal with you tomorrow."

'Dealing with him' apparently involved some silent treatment that itself became an exquisite torture - he was paranoid, waiting for her to bring out the big guns. Akihiko absentmindedly examined his bare hands, picking at the bandages wrapped around his knuckles. He should have never let Mitsuru see...

"Oh, Arisato and Iori," she said quietly, looking past him further down the carriage.

"What? Where?" Akihiko looked around wildly, then ducked his head as he caught sight of the pair, watching them out of the corner of his eye. Junpei was standing too close to her, that was for sure. His eyes widened as he saw the boy tap Minako's nose, and they laughed together, in harmony. It was no surprise when Junpei reached out and grabbed her arm.

"We're here." Mitsuru tapped his shoulder, picking up her bag from underneath her seat and standing up. Minako and Junpei had stepped out already, heads close together as they whispered to each other.

Akihiko's throat felt dry. Girls had never been high on his list of priorities. He wanted to train and he wanted to fight and he wanted to get stronger. Even yesterday was something he could rationalise - he was attracted to her, sure. That wasn't his fault, so much as it was that flimsy yukata and the inbuilt desire he had to conquer. But Iori? Really? One stupid... incident and she'd turned to _Iori_? A familiar feeling of jealousy bubbled up inside him, and it felt rehearsed. Like he'd done this before.

He ground his teeth in his jaw and couldn't stop, even when he felt Mitsuru staring at him. He followed her out of the monorail and headed to the school gates.

"...I trust you will be home at a reasonable hour tonight," Mitsuru said coldly, and there was no question that it was a command. She straightened his jacket lapels and grabbed his chin, turning his face to the left to examine the damage. Shaking her head, she smiled wryly. She really should smile more often. "I'm too old for this, Akihiko. Grow up."

Feeling like a child in her wake, he watched her enter the grounds, a student council member catching her attention as she stepped through the door. Akihiko felt oddly self-conscious, and tried to hide his bandaged hands in his jacket pockets. It seemed that even a split lip wasn't going to stop his fan club - he was mobbed on the way to class, and really, he just didn't have it in him to be polite today. He ignored the shrieks and the questions, and ended up sleeping through most of his morning classes.

Akihiko did not leave his classroom at lunch. Instead, he pulled Minako's copy of Witch Detective out of his bag. He'd found it in his laundry basket that morning, hidden among his meticulously folded clothes. Looking at it skeptically, Akihiko opened it up at a dog-eared page. She had underlined multiple passages and circled obscure words, writing dictionary meaning in the margins. She seemed to take it quite seriously, but really, the book itself was so ploddingly written it made him laugh, and smile, and laugh again.

He didn't notice his female classmates staring at him and sighing in adoration.

* * *

"Arisato. Are you able to attend student council today?" Mitsuru entered classroom 2F exactly three minutes after the bell rang, while Minako and Yukari were discussing ways to combat Wild Duck Burger cravings. "Odagiri wants to discuss the plan for the coming months with you."

"Oh..." Minako stalled, feeling herself turn red. "I, um, kind of... have to, uh..." The classroom door slid open and she breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for a bit more time to make up an excuse. Unnecessary - it turned out one had just walked through the door.

"Minako, can I -" Akihiko stopped short upon seeing Mitsuru towering over her desk, and he somehow seemed physically smaller now that he was in her presence.

There was an awkward silence, Mitsuru calculatingly staring between Minako and Akihiko, before apparently coming to some sort of conclusion. She nodded to herself, and smiled that small controlled smile Akihiko had gotten so used to.

"Very well. I'll tell him to expect you next week." Mitsuru did not walk so much as glide, and she cast Akihiko a knowing, devious look as she left the room. He shivered. She was obviously going to find some way to use this against him later. That, or tell Shinjiro. The two always did enjoy having a laugh at his expense.

"Sooo, Yuka-tan? We were going to get Wild Duck Burger?" Junpei said as he grabbed Yukari's sleeve, commandeering her out of the room, despite her loud and insistent protests that she wanted sushi. He hissed at her in a not-quite-inaudible voice, "It doesn't matter, just hurry up!"

It was just them now, and that one girl who always wore her hair up in buns. Minako swore she was simultaneously fanning herself while staring daggers at her.

"...Hey." And for that one moment, it didn't matter that if looks could kill Minako would be long dead. Akihiko smiled that crooked smile, a bit awkward and a lot endearing, and the cut in his lower lip split and welled up with blood.

"Hey." She replied, leaning forward on her desk and resting her chin on her palms. "Let me guess - I should see the other guy, right?" Minako tapped her finger against her cheek, pursing her lips mischievously.

"Heh. Yeah. Something like that." His smiled faded, and he touched the bruise tentatively. "Listen, I want to explain. About yesterday -"

"Not here," Minako interrupted, "not just yet. We have all the time in the world, you know. It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere."

"Don't quote Witch Detective at me," Akihiko frowned, crossing his arms.

"I'm not quoting it _at_ you, I'm quoting it _to_ you... wait, how did you know it was Witch Detective?" Minako let out a squeal of delight as Akihiko ducked his head, avoiding her eyes. "You _read _it? You actually read it!"

"...I choose not to justify that with an answer." He was baffled by her easy forgiveness, her trust. After last night, he felt a strange sense of stillness in his soul. He had to do this today, when he knew he could resist acting on the visceral intentions in his heart.

"C'mon, it's okay to admit you liked it," Minako smiled slyly up at him, and he just shook his head, exasperated. Clearing out her desk, she packed her book bag and headed for the door.

"Well? Don't just stand there, Senpai. We've only got 'til curfew to make today something."

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own P3P, etc.**

**A/N:** There is a lovely poem by Richard Siken called 'Scheherazade', and that is where the line_ 'It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere' _actually comes from. Also, in case you haven't played Persona 4, 'Witch Detective' is one of the books you can read to up your stats (courage/charm/academics/etc). It is described as _"a ploddingly written romantic novel about a girl in her first day of school in her now town. Vampires are involved. The content of this book was almost physically painful for you to read."  
_YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE IS PLODDINGLY WRITTEN? THIS CHAPTER AMIRITE?

FUN FACT: I had a nap straight after I wrote this and had a horrific dream where I spelled 'Akihiko' wrong every time I typed it. And I knew I was spelling it wrong, but I couldn't stop myself. It was terrible.

ALSO: After the next chapter, I have four open tracks! See, I had no real proper plan when I started this, except for how it would end (kind of... okay not really). I just write whatever I feel like on the day. Which is why when I read it back to myself it sounds manic-depressive. My apologies.  
ANYWAY, THE POINT IS: if you have a request/prompt/suggestion, let me know! It'll be on like Donkey Kong.

Track 05 is 'the sound of settling', and it's a really happy song!


	5. the sound of settling

_I've got a hunger  
twisting my stomach into knots  
that my tongue has tied off  
my brain's repeating  
"if you've got an impulse LET IT OUT"  
but they never make it past my mouth_  
**  
05. the sound of settling**  
12/02/2010

Iwatodai was a city without empty streets. There was no silence, only still moments of quiet, as if the city itself held its breath in anticipation of what was to come. Minako belonged here in a way he never had, her mouth always held in contemplation of what to say next, her breathless laughter echoing through subways and past apartment buildings. The light of the sun reached forward to embrace her while he walked in her shadow.

"Let's play questions." She said suddenly, turning to face him. They stood at the foot of the steps to the shrine, and Akihiko absently wondered when exactly they had arrived here, whether there had been anything else to the journey outside the moment when her slender fingers had adjusted the pins in her hair and kneaded the back of her neck. "I ask you something, and you have to answer honestly. Then you ask me something. Actually, you know what? I'm in a good mood. I'll let you go first."

Minako stared at him expectantly, her lips already curved into a smile, ready to laugh easily at whatever he asked. Like she was an open book, and it was he who was keeping all the secrets. Something flared up inside him. Nobody wanted to fight him like she did.

"Okay then. You and Junpei."

"That's not even a question," she replied dispassionately, rolling her eyes. "Me and Junpei what?" Akihiko raised an eyebrow and made some nonsensical gesture with his hands, but it was the look in his eyes that Minako understood. Jealousy, animosity, an accusation. "Wait. Me? _And _Junpei? Don't even joke about about it." He didn't seem to be convinced. Minako sighed, running her thumb and index finger over her brows.

"Please don't get the wrong idea, Senpai. He's just a friend." She turned abruptly, making her way up the steps and to the playground, always staying in earshot of his reluctant footsteps. She wandered over to the climbing frame, grabbing the cool metal and starting to climb. "Actually, no, that's not it. He's my _best_ friend. And I _love_ him, very much. But that's all there is."

She seated herself at the top of the frame, balancing precariously, and Akihiko was torn between climbing up to join her or waiting to catch her if she fell. But as the sunlight touched her skin and she leaned in toward it, he knew there had never been a decision to make, that he had never really had a choice to begin with. And as he made his way up to meet her he distinctly recalled the crackle of her hair against his fingertips, a sharp exhale, her teeth breaking the sensitive skin between his neck and his shoulder to keep from crying out.

"Took you long enough," she grinned, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. He felt a sharp twinge, and winced. "My turn. Hmm..." Minako chewed her lip, studying the way the light made his gray eyes seem translucent, the purple bruise standing out against his pale cheek. "Okay. What happened to you last night?"

"Well," Akihiko looked down at his hands, unravelling the bandages to expose broken skin. He laid his palms out flat against his thighs before curling his hands into fists, feeling the sting of skin coming apart. "The first rule is, you don't talk about it. And the second rule is... you don't talk about it." He smirked, having the gall to look pleased with himself.

"Hey! You can't pull that sort of stuff, it's cheating," Minako laughed, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "There are consequences, you know."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

Akihiko had always thought himself quite good at predicting an opponent's moves. The bruises on his face may have said otherwise, but he'd avoided both a concussion and a broken nose last night. And it didn't make sense to him, didn't quite add up when Minako's fingers were suddenly in his hair and she'd pulled at the ribbon tie of his uniform to bring his face level with hers. It wasn't until he opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing did her lips press against his; he tasted rust on her tongue from his own dried blood. And it was strange, that he knew how to respond, the rhythm brand-new but broken in. He grabbed at her hip, his other hand holding on to the metal frame to support them both. Then, just as suddenly, she pulled away, detaching herself from his grasp. She laughed brightly at his slightly dazed expression.

"You broke my heart yesterday. It's only fair I get to break yours." Minako smirked, leaning back in despite her words. She smooshed in as close to his side as possible, resting her head on his shoulder. The wool of his sweater vest was scratchy against her cheek. She could feel the beginnings of laughter bubble up in his chest only to dissipate almost immediately, as though he was self-conscious of the sound. "Your turn. Go."

"What, we're still doing this?" He felt her nod against his shoulder, and he sighed, staring up at the sky. After a few moments, he nodded to himself. "All right. Why me? I don't... I don't think I understand. You could have been here with anyone."

Confident that he couldn't see her face, Minako rolled her eyes. There were the obvious reasons - captain of the goddamn boxing team, had his own fan club, had been seen in public reading Witch Detective... For someone who scored so well on his exams, he sure was dense.

"Because I know you," she replied earnestly, and somehow she knew the words without having to think about them. "Because I know that you're strong and honest and proud and kind and always secretly hurting inside, and that's why you did this," she ran the back of her hand against his cheek, "to yourself, because you feel like there's something not okay about that."

"I was scared. Yesterday. With you. I felt like a little kid again, like it was all over my head. Like I could hurt you very badly." He admitted quietly, and Minako knew that Akihiko was one of those children born with some presentiment of loss. "...I wish I'd stayed."

"I wish you'd stayed too. I wish... I wish a lot of things." Minako sighed heavily, relaxing against Akihiko's side, the afternoon sunlight making her feel drowsy. It would be nice to do this again, curling up like cats on top of his covers and sleeping the days away.

"Hey. It's your turn." He nudged her, and she made a small noise of protest, burrowing her head into his chest. Her voice came out muffled when she spoke.

"It's alright. Let's stop. One day, I'll know everything about you. I want to enjoy not knowing, just for now." Reluctantly, she surfaced from her hiding place, tilting her head up for another kiss, smiling against his lips. He was the one who pulled away first this time, turning his head to stare at the setting sun.

"We're rushing this, Minako," he said seriously, and although she could not see his face she could imagine the pensive frown. Akihiko wrapped an arm around her, his hand gripping tightly at her waist, and she dragged a fingernail over his abused knuckles. She liked the way she felt the sharp hiss running through him more than she heard it. He sighed, seeming almost content, and pulled her closer.

"...We don't have much time left. Graduation's less than a month away. After that, you'll be leaving the dorm, won't you? I won't get to see you every day." She trailed off, biting her lip.

They were both silent, Minako pulling his hand to her lap and mapping the new cuts and grazes, tip-toeing her fingers in the dips between his knuckles. With his free hand, Akihiko took hold of her chin, turning her head to face him. Her eyes were bright and wistful and a little sad. And he tried to tell her that he'd keep jars of her breath, build shelves of her words, but it was too convoluted a message to send with his eyes alone.

"I... That won't... It won't change anything. We'll still..." Minako raised her finger to his lips, pressing it against the fresh cut. He was always running out of words, stumbling over the right thing to say.

"I know," she said solemnly, and in that moment Akihiko learned that you didn't need water to feel like you were drowning. "I know that, Senpai. We're going to be alright."

Because the gods didn't align the stars so you could meet the other half of your soul just to take them away from you.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Don't own P3P, etc.**

**A/N: **This chapter fought me tooth and nail. I hope you enjoyed it. The last line is from the novel 'Shutter Island', by Dennis Lehane. I think there is a ghost in my house, doors keep opening and closing by themselves when I'm home alone (I'm not worried about the ghost, I'm worried that the ghost thinks I'm an idiot).

Now is the time to let me know if you have any requests for upcoming chapters. Otherwise it'll just be more hand-porn and Akihiko getting beaten up at fight club. Really. This is all my mind is capable of. So let me know. Thanks guys. :)


	6. tiny vessels

_every bite I gave you left a mark  
as tiny vessels oozed  
into your neck  
and formed the bruises  
that you said  
you didn't want to fade_

_all I see  
are dark gray clouds  
in the distance, moving closer  
with every hour_

**06. tiny vessels**  
14/02/2010

_1 new message received. Read?_

_14/02 - Sun - 12:37 pm  
Sender: Akihiko  
Hey. Sorry I didnt catch you this morning. Went to see Shinji, heading back now. Lunch?_

Minako glared at the screen of her cell phone, half tempted to reply that she was already having lunch. With Mitsuru. On Valentine's Day.

She had spent all of her free time after school yesterday at cooking club with Fuuka, laboriously making her honmei-choco - chocolate-covered cherry daifuku - for a certain someone who wasn't there. In addition, she'd made some tomo-choco in the form of rocky-road-esque slice for the rest of her dormmates.

Junpei had been unusually glum that morning for reasons even he couldn't really comprehend, and had wandered off to Port Island Station soon after he had woken up. Yukari, Fuuka, and Ken-kun were nowhere to be found, while Koromaru lay dozing in front of the television. Minako was watching Phoenix Ranger Featherman R reruns ('Giant Robot March! Icaras! Garuda! Combine!') and feeling very sorry for herself when Mitsuru had descended the stairs, her hair still slightly damp and curling more than usual. Glad for the company, Minako had given Mitsuru one of the boxes of tomo-choco, and the brief expression of surprise and delight that had flashed over her senpai's face filled her with a feeling of fondness that seemed irreconcilable with the cool, collected Mitsuru Kirijo she barely knew. The elder had opened the box, picking out a piece of chocolate and glancing at Minako as if seeking reassurance that she was doing it right, and had taken a bite.

"This is wonderful, Arisato. Thank you for sharing it with me." Mitsuru gave her one of those rare little smiles, which quickly fell into an expression of discomfiture. "I believe Akihiko has gone to see Shinjiro - he seems to have a lot to tell him. I did try to talk him out of it, especially considering, well... but he rushed off before I could explain..." Mitsuru trailed off, and Minako couldn't help but laugh.

"Typical. He probably doesn't even know what day it is. Oh well. I'll deal with him later." Minako swore the look on Mitsuru's face was one of approval, and it just made her laugh harder. "So, Senpai. Do you have any plans for today?"

"Ah. No, not especially," she admitted, with an easy grace that Minako hoped she would be able to emulate some day.

"Well! Let's have cup ramen then! I know where Junpei hides them."

"Hmm. I have never had instant ramen before. I wonder how it differs in comparison to Hagakure," Mitsuru furrowed her brows. "Very well. I should like to try some."

Disproportionately enchanted by the flavour of soy sauce cup ramen, Mitsuru and Minako fell into easy conversation, mostly about the junior's stellar grades and how to prepare for entrance exams. Cue the text message. Minako read it out loud, shaking her head lightly and returning her attention to her near-empty cup ramen. But Mitsuru's stare turned contemplative, then hard, and Minako braced herself in fear of the inevitable deluge.

"...I have known Akihiko for a very long time. It has been... very difficult, for him. And I've always felt that it was my job, to look after him, which is perhaps why I treat him like a child." She smiled wryly. "There are many things he cannot tell me, but he has always had Shinjiro to handle what I could not. Nonetheless... it is nice to know that you will take care of him, too." Mitsuru closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then met Minako's gaze. There was no uncertainty there, just Mitsuru's regal poise and unquestionable pride, not for herself but for he who had been hers all these years. "I suppose... I'm happy, I'm very happy, that he's finally growing up. But I'm sad, too. Because he's not my responsibility any more."

There was a clear assumption on Mitsuru's part, Minako realised, that she knew more about Akihiko than was actually the case. The speech, while earnest, felt prepared, as though Mitsuru had been waiting a very long time to get it off her chest. But how was that even possible? For the first time in the past few days, Minako actually understood Akihiko's hesitance, his apprehension, his _logical reaction_ to waking up in a long-term relationship with a girl he barely knew. She had been so busy blindly following instinct that she had failed to acknowledge something very important - Akihiko had a life outside of this. Outside of her. Here was Mitsuru, giving up yet another constant in her life, while all Minako had been thinking about was destiny and true love and the feel of gloved fingers pulling her hair.

She was saved from voicing this realisation as the front door opened and Akihiko peeked inside, his hair tousled from the winter breeze. Mitsuru stood abruptly upon seeing him, and the two exchanged a _look_. It was funny, Minako noted, the way the pair could speak without words - Mitsuru giving him an accusatory glare while Akihiko's response was something akin to 'what did I do now, woman?' with a dash of 'please do not hurt me'. In the end Mitsuru simply huffed, taking Minako's empty ramen cup and disappearing into the kitchen. His eyes followed her for a few moments, mild confusion flickering over his features which eventually settled into a sort-of smile as he turned to Minako.

"Hey. Did you get my text?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah," she replied distractedly, running her fingers through her fringe and readjusting the bobby pins in her hair. Akihiko had come to learn, or perhaps already knew, that this was a trademark nervous gesture of hers. "Listen, I need to talk to you. Not here," Minako added hastily as he opened his mouth to speak. "Upstairs?" She raised her eyebrows, hoping he got the message.

Mitsuru breezed back into the lounge, throwing Minako a meaningful glance as she headed to the front door, murmuring something about having business to attend to. Akihiko did not respond to either of them, his gray eyes narrowed as he looked Minako up and down. That was another thing she hadn't noticed up until now - for all his stumbling kindness, and civility, and awkwardness with girls, there was something else just underneath the surface, coiled and ready to strike.

"Alright," he said quietly, the moment he heard the door close, and he started down the hallway without her. Shaking her head, Minako grabbed the heart-shaped box of handmade daifuku from the nondescript bag on the coffee table and rushed after him, catching him at the foot of the stairs.

"So, how was Shinjiro-senpai?"

Akihiko's face visibly fell. "He's not any worse... but he's not any better, either." Minako rubbed his shoulder, startled when he shrugged her off instinctively. "Oh, sorry," he half-laughed, taking her hand in his and giving her an odd look as she tried to hide the box of sweets from his line of sight. "It's just, well... he's all that's left of my past. And I don't want to forget. I need to remember, you know. It's like, I need him here, to remind me that it was all real." He trailed off, staring ahead absently. Minako squeezed his hand tighter, feeling as though she understood him just a little bit better now.

"He's the only family you've got left?"

"Yeah. It used to be Shinji, Miki - my sister - and me. We grew up together, at the orphanage. But Miki..."

Minako nodded, filling in the silence when he trailed off. "I had a brother. We were twins..." She looked up in surprise when Akihiko started laughing.

"Me and Miki, too."

"No way! Younger or older?"

"Heh. I'm older. By three minutes."

Minako pouted. "I'm younger. By four." They paused outside the door to his room, smiling despite themselves, and she reluctantly disentangled her hand from his. "Okay. Enough with the exposition. Today's a special day. And I have a present for you." Minako flushed as she held the pale pink box out to him, frowning at the confused expression that passed over his face when he took it.

"What's this for?" He looked at the box suspiciously, then looked back up at her, as if he was some sort of practical joke.

"You seriously don't know?" His blank look was enough of an answer. "It's _Valentine's Day_, Senpai."

Wow. Suddenly, the awkward looks that the nurses had been giving him while he sat at Shinji's bedside made sense. He cringed, started voicing half-formed apologies.

Minako waved a hand dismissively. She'd figured as much. She ducked past him into his room, kicking off her boots and sitting on the edge of his bed before he could protest, curling her legs underneath herself and shifting until she was comfortable. Books were piled high on his desk, post-it notes peeking out between pages, loose sheets of paper covered in mathematical formulae obscured by a pair of patched-up boxing gloves. Speaking of boxing, he had so many trophies that it looked like he was running out of space for them; they were so shiny it was distracting. Nevertheless, his room suited him, she decided. There was one anomaly though - a pair of bright orange cushions at the foot of his bed. She picked one up, running her fingers over the barely worn cotton, an odd sense of nostalgia creeping up on her without warning. Shaking her head roughly, she returned the cushion to its rightful place, turning her attention back to Akihiko.

And she knew she was staring as he peeled off gloves with his teeth while unravelling his scarf with his free hand, but the realisation didn't make it any easier to tear her eyes away. Akihiko sat down next to her, picking off the pink mochi heart from a white-chocolate covered daifuku and popping it in his mouth before tentatively taking a bite out of the sweet. Minako let out a sigh of relief as he sighed contentedly, grinning mischievously as he offered what was left of the piece to her.

She leaned forward and bit down on his finger and thumb, tasting salt and leather and cherries before he jerked back, making a sound halfway between amused and aggravated. That would teach him to pay more attention to his calendar. Minako watched him examine the teeth-shaped indentations as she happily devoured the sweet, and that was her mistake; she didn't feel his fingers at the back of her neck until he pinched, hard.

It should have been a given, but Akihiko was not the type to pull punches. Minako yelped, pushing his shoulders roughly, only to have him grab her wrists and use her own momentum to pull her off balance. Unfortunately she toppled forward, her forehead colliding with a jutting collarbone, and both of them let out a sharp 'ow!' before dissolving into a fit of breathless laughter. His grip on her wrists was firm and a little too tight, like he was tempted to keep squeezing until he heard a snap, and it was good, not necessarily safe, but secure. She was content to bury her face in the crook of his neck, sensing the shift in his throat as he swallowed, his too-fast heartbeat and easy breathing, and it felt like a life's worth of Sunday afternoons which they hadn't had yet, an easy familiarity between new friends.

Forcibly raising her arms to rake her fingers through his hair, Akihiko eventually relented and let go, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands at the small of her back. And really, it was funny because she knew he was content to stay like this, wrapped up together listening to the gradually growing sound of raindrops hitting the windowpane. Minako pressed her lips to his neck, searching for the spot where tendon strained against skin. She bit down, teeth scraping mercilessly, then licked the patch of skin in apology, eliciting a sharp sigh and an involuntary shudder from the unsuspecting boy beneath her.

"Didn't you... want... to talk about... something?" Akihiko sounded like he was struggling to breathe, let alone speak, and Minako figured that this was his somewhat pathetic attempt at being responsible and giving her a chance to back away from what she'd started. Never mind that he had practically pulled her onto his lap, eyes unfocused and his head tilted back invitingly. Okay, so she'd left all those niggling doubts at the door. Besides, what could she possibly fix about this? Maybe she was obsessive, and maybe Akihiko couldn't really discern the difference between love and loss, but they were here, and they were together, and things were going alright.

She smiled coyly. "Not really, no."

* * *

**Disclaimer: I don't own P3P. /sadface**

**A/N:** OH MY GOD I am so sorry about the delay, work + my birthday + started playing Birth By Sleep... Oh, a late Happy Birthday to the preppy pugilist as well! You're finally legal, Akihiko!

Fufufufufu major props go to the loverly **phantasiagirl **for reminding me that Valentine's Day is in February! Now you know I'm under-qualified to be writing a love story, I don't even know when Valentine's Day is. GOD. But thank you thank you, you are wonderful!  
Oh man you guys should Wiki what Valentine's Day is like in Japan, it's way different and very interesting.

Also, I know that Aigis hasn't gotten a mention yet. I will rectify this right now. Imagine every chapter so far. And then imagine Aigis in every chapter so far. In the shadows, lurking near corners, or behind conveniently placed trees. Watching.


	7. transatlanticism

_the Atlantic was born today and I'll tell you how  
the clouds above opened up and let it out  
I was standing on the surface of a perforated sphere  
when the water filled every hole  
and thousands upon thousands made an ocean  
making islands  
where no island should go_

_most people were overjoyed, they took to their boats  
I thought it less like a lake  
and more like a moat_

**07. transatlanticism**  
21/02/2010

He hadn't really noticed it before, but Minako was the kind of girl who never stopped moving. She was in perpetual motion - always rearranging her hair, or pulling up her socks to make sure they were exactly level, or tapping her feet against the ground when she was forced to stand in one place. It wasn't like it bothered him or anything, he was just wondering why it had never occurred to him to pay attention. She was pretty, especially when she smiled (and she was smiling all the time now), she could polish off a special at Hagakure and still have room for tuna... Hell, she was even close to being his equal when it came to video games. They were a perfect match. Best friends. And he couldn't figure out why he hadn't fallen for her yet.

Akihiko and Minako didn't really act like they had it going on. He had seen them one night last week, shoulder to shoulder at the dining table, the elder mercilessly firing math problems at her while she frantically jotted down answers, chewing her lip.

"Time's up," Akihiko had said, cold and clipped, and Minako just shoved her notebook in his direction before resting her elbows on the table top and burying her face in her hands. The senior had looked over her answers, all business, eventually nodding. "Good work," he'd said, and Minako looked up hopefully, the corners of her mouth twitching up into a grin, "but you keep screwing these ones up. Do you know how to use the formula?"

Her face had fallen and she huffed loudly, muttering something about how math should be made illegal. Or at least non-compulsory. Minako let her forehead drop to the table, but Akihiko wouldn't have any of that. He'd poked the back of her neck, completely nonplussed as she lashed out wildly to ward him off, then tugged her hair roughly.

"Come on, I'll show you," he said patiently, and Minako slowly straightened herself up and nodded, leaning in closer to watch him work through the problem, his neat, slightly slanted print in sharp contrast to her loopy scrawl. Akihiko was left-handed, which meant it wasn't really necessary for Minako to be leaning in that far to see, but she'd pressed her side right up against his and he hadn't really done anything to stop her. Somehow, Akihiko had gotten the feeling that her heart wasn't in it for the math, and eventually he'd half-smiled and said, "The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can go get Beef Bowls."

"We're getting _Beef Bowls_?" she'd replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "Wow, you sure know how to show a girl a good time, Senpai." Despite her words, she'd started putting a bit more effort in, listening carefully as Akihiko went over the next problem and eventually doing the last few on her own. They'd both turned to each other at the exact same moment, smiling, and he could have sworn they were going to high-five or hug or maybe kiss or something, but Akihiko eventually averted his gaze and cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. Minako had just smiled even wider. "Well? I was promised Beef Bowl."

He realised, then, that he couldn't really remember ever hearing his senpai laugh. It was a nice sort of sound, unexpected, but catching, because Minako started to laugh too, and suddenly he had felt left out, and very alone.

The feeling had stayed with him all throughout the week. Even now, while lounging around in the second floor hallway with both Minako and Yukari, he felt inexplicably disconnected.

Yukari was bombarding the other girl with questions, all Akihiko-related, and Junpei knew full-well that the desperate glances Minako kept throwing him were obviously cries for help. He stayed silent, not trusting himself to speak. He was jealous. That's what this was, jealousy. He had no problem accepting that. The real issue was, however, that he didn't know what he was jealous _of_. Him and Minako were tight, that was for sure. And he adored her, just not in that way.

When it came to Akihiko, well, he could have had any girl he wanted, but he'd just had to choose Junpei's best friend. And screw her over while he was deciding. Junpei remembered that Thursday just over a week ago, even if Minako acted like she didn't. He'd thought something was wrong when he'd seen her in the morning, but when he'd forced her to open her door that evening, he'd wished he hadn't been proved right. She had been a mess that day, eyes rimmed red and hair up in all directions, and all Junpei could do was offer her cup ramen while she tried her best to hold back another wave of tears.

He'd tried to act like he hadn't noticed anything, but he'd asked her, the very next day, just to wait. Just wait 'til we're at home before you speak to him, so I can have your back. Please, just wait. Wait for me. But she hadn't listened, hadn't gotten the underlying meaning of his words, and he was scared for her. Minako was one of those people who would... who would use Esuna on the hero instead of curing her own Poison ailment.

Yukari had asked her something else and she'd actually responded this time, instead of just blushing and glaring at him when she thought Yukari wasn't looking.

"I don't know, Yukari. It just feels right. It feels like we've... Like, we already know each other." Minako shrugged while Yukari squealed, murmuring something about past lives. Junpei scoffed, and both the girls turned to stare at him, eyes narrowing.

He stared back defiantly. "Minako, it's been just over a week."

"I know that," she replied defensively, scuffing her shoes against the carpet. "I was just saying... I mean, it's like... you know. It feels like it's something out of a manga, or a video game." Minako smiled, obviously trying to lighten the tone, to appeal to his better nature. It wasn't working.

"Yeah, well, this isn't a manga, or a video game, is it?" He retorted, before he could stop himself. "You're acting like that girl out of that stupid Witch Detective book you read."

He knew how to press her buttons, that was for sure. She leaned forward, eyes hard and narrowed. "How would you know? You haven't even read it!"

"I read the Wikipedia page!"

Yukari looked between them, biting her lip, at a loss for words. Usually, it was Minako acting as mediator between herself and Junpei, and now that the tables had turned, she didn't know what to do. Her first instinct was to side with Minako, but Junpei was actually making sense for once.

"Why is it any of your business, anyway?" Minako all but yelled, her hands balled into fists, and both she and Junpei knew that they weren't really arguing about Witch Detective anymore. He'd questioned the gravity of what she felt for Akihiko, and she was hitting back where it hurt.

"I don't know, Minako." He replied quietly, gritting his teeth. "See, I thought we were friends, and friends generally look out for each other, you know? But you obviously don't need anything from me anymore." Junpei stood and made his way down the stairs, and it took everything in him not to run. He could hear Yukari speaking in low tones to the other girl, saying things like 'just give him some space' and 'forget what he said'. He couldn't even remember what he'd said.

Ken and Koromaru were watching Phoenix Ranger Featherman R downstairs, while Mitsuru flicked through a magazine, Akihiko at her side. It took him a few moments to realise that Akihiko was actually asleep, a neglected pair of boxing gloves on his lap. Every now and then he would fall against Mitsuru's side and she would frown, pushing him off before turning a page. Maybe it was the fading bruise on his cheek, or something to do with the light, but he looked impossibly young during those short moments, napping with his head resting on Mitsuru's shoulder. None of them even looked up as Junpei stomped down the hall.

He had to get out of here.

* * *

Minako was pacing incessantly up and down the first floor hallway that evening, and Mitsuru glared at Akihiko until he caved and made his way over to her, standing directly in the junior's path so she had to look up at him.

"Junpei hasn't come back yet," she said, all in one breath, and without Akihiko even having to ask what was wrong. "Maybe you should punch him. In the face." Minako added, the feigned hostility doing little to hide her evident worry.

"I'll think about it. So. Tell me what happened." He raised an eyebrow, feeling way too old for this.

"He... he said that it's only been a week." Minako frowned. Was that why she'd gotten so angry? Akihiko stared at her blankly, and she lowered her voice to a hiss. "You know. With us."

"But it has only been a week..." He replied slowly, carefully. The last thing he wanted was to end up outside, like Junpei.

"I _know _that! Wait, you're defending him?"

Damn. Akihiko sighed, running his thumb and forefinger over his brows. "Yes, I'm defending him. Because he's your best friend. And you love him." She looked like she was about to burst into tears after that, so he quickly added, "Do you want me to go look for him?"

"I don't even know where he is." She mumbled, subdued, and Akihiko wanted to wrap his arms around her or stroke that spot at the base of her skull that made her sleepy, but he could feel Mitsuru's eyes on him from the dining table.

"I think I do."

* * *

Lately, whenever he'd let his mind wander, he'd always end up here, at Port Island station. Junpei had been at Gekkoukan for four years, and never before had he felt such a pull to this place. But whenever he got here, it was empty. There were no answers as to why he felt the way he did, or why he would continue to come back, expecting to find something he'd lost.

And that was the thing, that was why he felt so damn angry, watching the two of them. Because he wanted that, he'd had a taste of it, once, and now it was gone, leaving Junpei with nothing, not even a name or a current address. He knew this, somewhere deep inside his heart, but his head just couldn't put the pieces back the way they were supposed to be. Someone had changed his equipment and shifted his paradigm deck and swapped his default party members, and now it was all wrong, and he didn't know where to start to fix it.

"Minako thinks I should punch you. In the face." A voice came from somewhere behind him, and suddenly Akihiko was towering over him with his arms crossed, looking as though he had been forced into this against his will.

"Yeah, well, maybe I should punch you in the face." And Junpei meant it as a joke, really, but he should have known better. What gave him the right to joke around with an upperclassman? Even if his best friend did have him on a leash. He winced, thinking back to that day when Minako had opened her door just a crack to see who was outside, her lip trembling, eyes red and shining. "I was there, that day you left her. And I saw her fall apart. I've never seen her like that, and I never want to see her like that ever again."

Their eyes met, and Junpei was grudgingly impressed by the fact that Akihiko didn't look away, despite the guilt that was working its way onto his face.

"So I don't care how strong you are, Senpai," he grinned, "you hurt her, and I'll mess you up real good."

"Right." Akihiko said wearily, pulling out his cell phone from his jacket pocket. "I believe you. But tell it to her, not me." He didn't even bother going to his contacts list, just started to dial a number from memory.

"No, no, no, Senpai, wait..." Akihiko was already handing him the phone, and she picked up just as he reluctantly placed the receiver against his ear.

"Senpai? Did you find him?" She sounded rushed, anxious, and Junpei felt a swell of affection for her. Akihiko wasn't looking at him anymore, his eyes were drawn to the back alley, expression contemplative and a bit guilty, still. He couldn't hold this against either of them. Besides, he needed Minako. She was his wingman, the lancer to his protagonist.

"Hey, Minako. It's me." He heard her exhale sharply, and for a second he thought she was going to yell at him again.

"Hey," she said quietly, and he could hear her swallow apprehensively before she started speaking again. "So, I'm stuck on this boss in Odin Cube..."

* * *

...

**Things I was doing while not writing this:** sleeping (finally), working, and playing Digital Devil Saga. That's it. I've become obsessed with the idea of epic Persona/DDS crossovers in which Akihiko is one of the Embryon and his Atma avatar is totally some tricked out version of Caesar. Imagine that! Bone rending, flesh tearing, violent cannibal Caesar. It already exists somewhere on the internet, right? It has to. Rule 34 and everything.

...Forget I said that. I know this track is lacking in the Akihiko/Minako, and I'm sorry. But I had to do a double hit of that in the last couple of chapters, and truth be told I'm more into wangst and dudez punching each other. I read somewhere that Junpei was the character in Persona 3 that was meant to cement the fact that you are an Ordinary High School Student, because he is a typical Ordinary High School Student. So shine on, son. You get the title track! I even picked out the lyrics especially for you!

For your reference - I was that asshole in high school who always used to rain on everyone's parade and be like, 'hurr but you've only been dating for a week' when they'd start throwing around the word 'love'. THAT'S JUST THE KIND OF PERSON I AM.


	8. passenger seat

_then looking upwards  
I strain my eyes  
and try to tell the difference  
between shooting stars and satellites_

_"do they collide?"  
I ask  
and you smile_

**08. passenger seat**  
28/02/2010

There had been many nights, in his youth at least, when he had fallen asleep on a pillow pretending it was a real person. Laying it lengthways and nestling his head somewhere in the middle, constantly shifting, pretending to get comfortable, like his sister used to do to him when she couldn't sleep on her own. Akihiko had forgotten how physically uncomfortable it actually was to have someone else's weight on his chest, the pressure against his lungs. That said, it was nicer to wake up this way than alone. Secure and wrapped up with someone. With her. And she was tiny, really, sticks and bird bones, her body rising and falling with his breathing, fingers lax around his bicep. Her head was buried in the crook of his neck, as if she didn't spend enough time there while awake, and each soft exhale was driving him half-mad. To top it off, her eyelashes kept fluttering, and it tickled. Slow death by butterfly kisses.

He was still half-asleep but it felt so clear, in sharp focus, as though the center of the world was surely here, nowhere else.

Akihiko sighed, sneaking his hands underneath her singlet top and over the corrugations of her ribs. There was an almost imperceptible shift, but he could tell the difference instantly. Minako wasn't someone who eased into waking, she whirred to life. And while she was usually exceptionally restless, this morning she seemed content to stay, squeezing his arm lightly before running her fingers up his shoulder and neck to eventually trace the shell of his ear.

"You're awake," he stated plaintively, trying to shift her weight so he could stretch and relieve the tension in his shoulders. Minako frowned against his neck, tweaking his ear with a thumb and forefinger. So much for that.

"Nup," she mumbled, turning her head away from him. Her hair brushed his nose and it made him want to sneeze.

He yawned, and started talking before he thought the situation over, words sleepily sincere. "Oh. Sorry."

"S'okay." Minako had this way of laughing that was all breath and no sound, an exhale shaped like a 'ha', less put on and so much more earnest than the way she laughed with anyone else. It was becoming his favourite thing in the world.

He started running his fingers along the vertebrae of her spine, counting the bumps. "...Are you awake now?"

"Mmm, not yet," she whined, grabbing for his wrists and trying to wriggle away. Rolling off him, Minako briefly leaned up on her elbows to glare at him before flopping onto her back and staring at the ceiling. "Don't, your hands are cold."

"Sorry." Her weight in the world no longer pressed up against him, Akihiko found he was cold and missed her terribly, as though she was a state's length away instead of just a few inches. He knew how to fix this. Turning over so he was facing away from her, Akihiko grabbed at his duvet, pulling it up to his chin and curling up on his side like he used to when he was a kid. He waited. Sure enough, after a few moments he could hear her shifting beside him, then she was there, chest pressed flush against his bare back. He raised his elbow so she could snake an arm around his waist, her fingers tracing the fine, silvery hair that trailed down from his navel, dangerously close to the waistline of his boxers. Well, this was nice.

"Stop saying sorry."

"...I apolo-" Minako cut him off swiftly by pinching a nipple and twisting mercilessly, and while Akihiko had been making no secret of his masochistic tendencies of late, that was just _not cool_. He gasped, sitting straight up and flinging her off in the process, looking utterly betrayed as she collapsed into a fit of laughter. "Why, why would you even _do _that?"

"You remember that," she somehow managed to choke out, her eyes tearing up, "next time you want to be smart with me." Akihiko pulled all the blankets out from underneath her and toward his side of the bed, wrapping himself up and creating a cocoon that just left his head exposed. He glared at her when she put on her kicked-puppy face and tried to prod his arm.

"No, you've ruined it now, Minako," he said, all feigned hostility. "We're through."

"But I'm _cold_," she grumbled, head-butting his shoulder, and if it weren't for his blanket armour it would surely have left a bruise. He believed her, she was shivering, clad only in a thin singlet top and her underwear. But Akihiko could hold a grudge, that was for sure. He wasn't going to admit that the very reality of her, the fact that she was kneeling on his mattress in a typical morning disarray, the idea that he could envelop her in his arms and not let go... well, it made his chest ache.

"Well, look," he started, biting his lip and pretending to think, "I guess I could give you a hug or something, but my hands are cold, so..."

From here he could see the bruises on her hips which never really got a chance to fade, purple contusions with which his fingers lined up perfectly. He knew, guiltily, that there were similar marks on her shoulders, her ribs, the insides of her thighs.

Minako smirked, leaning in close, her lips brushing his ear as she spoke. "You could always put your gloves on."

They were both quiet, letting the statement hang in the air for a while, until Akihiko finally smirked back and Minako fell into another fit of giggles. He pulled her upright into his blanket cocoon, careful to keep his hands on top of the duvet and away from her skin. Making a small noise of protest somewhere low in her throat, Minako laced their fingers together, mumbling something which sounded like 'I like your cold hands' against his shoulder.

"So," Minako eventually spoke, once she was comfortable, "are you and Mitsuru-senpai going to the hospital today?"

"Mitsuru can't. She has a lot going on with the Kirijo Group right now." Concern flickered briefly over his face. "But yeah, I'm still going. Do you want to come?"

Minako frowned. Shinjiro had briefly stayed at the dorm with them last September, and she didn't remember much of the guy apart from the fact that he was a pretty ace cook and had bought her ice-cream once. But he was Akihiko's friend, someone Akihiko cared about, so maybe she should make an effort to get to know him? Well, that would be difficult, considering the whole 'coma' thing. She realised that she was trying to talk herself out of it, and she didn't understand why. The very idea of going to see Shinjiro set her on edge, a sort of nervous tension working its way into her limbs.

"Yeah," she forced the words out of her mouth, smiling weakly. "Sure. It'll be good to see him."

* * *

Minako had no fond memories of Tatsumi Memorial Hospital. It was here that her family had been brought after the accident, ten years ago. Her parents had died on impact, but her brother had fought hard, until it was just tubes and machines that kept his heart beating. She folded her arms and hunched her shoulders, gritting her teeth as she followed Akihiko through the sterile hallways. He wasn't the type to engage in public displays of affection, and Minako respected that, but... but it would have been nice to have a hand to hold. She nearly bumped into him as he stopped suddenly, sliding open a door and letting himself in.

"Hey," Akihiko said, as if on reflex, and it took Minako a few seconds to realise that he wasn't addressing her. Shinjiro was far thinner than she remembered, skin and bone, his eyes one big bruise. As if Akihiko had read her mind, he laughed, shaking his head. "Shinji. For someone who's been getting so much sleep, you sure look like shit."

It was funny, she'd never heard him curse before, wouldn't have thought him capable of it, but Akihiko was different now that he was here, with him. She suddenly had the distinct feeling that she was intruding on something personal, that she shouldn't be here. Her knees felt weak. Minako slowly lowered herself into one of the visitor's chairs, pressing her palm to her forehead, frowning as she felt her own hot skin.

Akihiko glanced at her, brows crinkling in worry. "You look pale. There's a vending machine just down the hall, I'll go grab you a coffee?" Before she could protest or ask him not to leave her alone, he was out the door, like a little kid eager to please, excited that he had his two best friends to play with. She exhaled, looking everywhere but the bed. This was ridiculous. She was overreacting. Biting her lip, Minako stood warily, making her way over to Shinjiro's side. She didn't realise it, but she was holding her breath.

He looked younger, now that he was resting, his face no longer curled into that perpetual frown. Or maybe it was just because he wasn't wearing that frayed beanie. She smiled, noting that his bangs were getting a bit too long, and before she could stop herself she was brushing his hair away from his closed eyes, smoothing the knots. Shinjiro was warm, just like she remembered, his face all angles, and he was so thin Minako could actually see the veins and tendons in his neck, standing out against his sallow skin.

"I'm sorry," she said, and she didn't really know what she was apologising for but the words kept tumbling out, as though something had finally collapsed within her, a structural barrier that had been holding everything back. "I'm so sorry, but there really never was a choice for me to make, you know? It was always going to be him. And I'm... I'm_ so _grateful, that you understood, that you let me have this, and I know it's selfish and cruel and unfair and wrong but I_ still need you_. He needs you. You have to come _home_." Her voice cracked.

Minako only realised her hands were shaking when she brought them up to cover her mouth, trying to get back some semblance of control by breathing through her fingers, as though it would filter the air rushing into her lungs. She stumbled away, intending to open the window and get some fresh air, but when she reached the glass she encountered her own reflection, warped and indistinct. And Minako could see something shifting behind her own eyes, clear as day, an undulating, restless current. If the eyes were the window to the soul then hers was an ocean, vast and bleak and cold and incomprehensible.

Panicking, she turned back to Shinjiro, only to be struck by an intense feeling of vertigo, like the world was spinning too fast beneath her feet. She clutched her head, and suddenly it was as if her winter shoreline had been illuminated by the moon, calm and quiet, waves lapping somewhere at the edge of her consciousness.

"Hey. Are you alright?" Akihiko's voice stirred something within her, and she was thinking _no, no, just stop, don't come any closer, I can't..._

Her eyes were screwed shut but she could hear him set something down on a table and move towards her, his hands rubbing her shoulders, gloves causing friction against her sweater. It was an instinctual thing, the moon dimmed and tiny pinpricks of light burned behind her eyes, transient and fleeting, and it almost made her want to cry. She'd once heard that the stars were only discernible because they were all bleeding, probably already dead over the distance.

"I'm... I'm sorry," she managed to gasp, lying through her teeth. "I guess it's just, I haven't seen him in such a long time. It's a bit overwhelming." Akihiko's hands were at her wrists, gently forcing her to stop digging her nails into her scalp, and eventually she let him guide her arms around his neck. He held her. It was as simple as that. He was warm and solid and real, hugging her close, his fingers stroking the spot at the base of her skull that made her feel drowsy. Neither of them spoke, and she could feel the tides slowly swell and disperse, waves receding back to some sleepy corner of her mind.

For a few minutes, it was as if her body focused all its energy on her breathing, each inhale so deep it was making her dizzy. Akihiko started to pull away and she grabbed at his jacket lapels in protest, but he was insistent, forcing her back into her seat and handing her a mug full of hot coffee. Her hands were still shaking violently but he said nothing, moving to stand directly behind her chair. His arms encircled her and he covered her hands with his own, guiding the rim of the mug to her lips so she could drink without spilling any. She swallowed, tentatively testing out her voice.

"What, you can get instant coffee in mugs now?" He laughed, slowly letting her go, making sure she could hold her own before retrieving his own mug and pulling his chair round so he could sit next to her.

"No, the machine wasn't working... One of the nurses took me to the staff lounge and showed me how to use their coffee maker, though."

"Wow, that sure was nice of her," Minako replied tartly, rolling her eyes. It wasn't just the female student population who were all atwitter over Akihiko, he had an unconscious charm and polite naivety that worked on old ladies and middle-aged housewives as well.

"Yeah, it was," he smiled genuinely, not quite getting her sarcasm, and Minako just shook her head. She felt clearer now, still shaken but back to her old self, as if her personality had found its baseline. Half of her hoped that Shinjiro hadn't heard the nonsense she had spouted before, it had been confusing and she felt foolish and conceited for thinking whatever it was she'd been thinking.

She glanced at her leather watch, frowning lightly, because even though she knew she never went without it, Minako could not recall the moment when it had come to be hers. "We should head back soon. Mitsuru-senpai will be worried."

"Mitsuru won't mind," Akihiko replied absently, eyes focused on his best friend, surrounded by IVs and respirators. Gears and circuits to keep the human machine running. "She knows you're with me." Minako couldn't help but laugh just a little, because the emphasis was on the 'you're' instead of the 'me', as if she was the protector out of the two.

"Either way, we don't have much time left. What should we do?"

For once, he looked completely relaxed, like he wasn't thinking about training or college or the past or even the future. Sometimes she forgot that Akihiko was still a high-schooler, just like her, because rarely did he have that _youngness _in his face that he did right now, as if he was still growing into the person he was meant to be.

He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee and grimacing, the exact same way she had done when she found out Shinjiro drank it black with no sugar. Had she done that? Could she have done that? She felt, not for the first time, that there was something insidious within her memory, cutting, editing, rewriting, erasing.

"Enjoy it," Akihiko said, cracking a smile. She smiled back despite herself.

* * *

...

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own P3P! :O  
**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **I will confess, writing that first bit almost-sort-of-slightly thawed out my cold, frozen heart. Or maybe that was just Mitsuru casting ICE BREAK, I don't even know.

Guys, thank you so much for the reviews and stuff, you are all so great! I love you like I love hugs and kittens and rainy days spent curled up inside drinking tea.

Also, sorry to all you cool cats who are fans of Fuuka or Ken. Me and Ken just haven't gotten along ever since he survived instead of my bro Shinjiro, and Fuuka... Fuuka, I'm on to you. "It's weak against strike attacks! Akihiko-senpai might be good against it." "Akihiko-senpai!" "Akihiko-senpai is dizzy!" "Akihiko-senpai is in trouble!" "Akihiko-senpai is unconscious!" FUUKA. HE IS LEVEL 99. He has Shoes of Light. If he INSISTS on getting Bufu'd I'm not going to stop him, the bastard.

I am PRETTY SURE Aigis will be in the next track, guys! ...PRETTY SURE.


	9. death of an interior decorator

_the girls were all there  
they traded their vows  
the youngest one glared with furrowed brows  
they tenderly kissed, then cut the cake  
the bride then tripped and broke the vase  
the one you thought would spend the years  
so perfectly placed below the mirror  
arriving late  
you clean the debris  
and walked into the angry sea  
and it felt just like..._

**09. death of an interior decorator**  
04/03/2010

Physics was slow death. She was so exhausted she could barely concentrate. To make it worse, Minako had somehow managed to put Akihiko's notebook in her bag by mistake, and ended up having to copy Junpei's answers to the week's homework, correcting them as she went along. While this worked out well for Junpei, Minako sorely missed the 'lunch' part of her lunch break, and her stomach was all but growling by the end of the day.

She stretched, flicking through the exercise book, briefly wondering whether or not to tear out the pages she'd used. In the end, she decided against it. She wasn't sure if Akihiko was vaguely obsessive-compulsive or something, but each page was meticulously neat, all ruled red margins and his distinctive handwriting, tiny letters and numbers written very close together and slanted slightly to the right. At least she'd written in the back of the book.

Minako made to close the exercise book but something on the inside back cover caught her eye - her own loopy cursive. _It's raining today, in the past. I hope the weather in the future's a bit better._ The purple felt-tip pen she'd used had faded over time, and Minako knew that that particular pen had finally run out of ink just before Christmas last year. She couldn't remember ever having access to Akihiko's books before, let alone writing the note itself, but the handwriting was definitely hers, messy and effortless and impulsive. She frowned, biting her lip, and scoured over the holes in her memory trying to find the moment, the minute, the second she'd laid her pen to paper...

Someone laid a hand on her shoulder and she felt a sharp pain, a jolt in her right temple, and Minako gasped before she could stop herself. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus and get rid of the bright white that had flashed behind her eyelids.

"Hey, dude. You alright?" Junpei leaned over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in concern, and she pulled in a steadying breath before forcing a grin. She had been making him worry way too much lately.

"I'm _starving_. Wanna go to Hagakure today?" Then, remembering his reluctance and odd lack of enthusiasm yesterday, she quickly added, "I'll pay."

"Whaaat? No way I'm letting you pay. We're best friends, aren't we? No sponging off of friends!"

"You said the _exact _same thing yesterday," she scoffed. "C'mon, let's go."

Sitting side by side on the monorail, they shared Minako's headphones, which culminated in Junpei getting an elbow in the ribs for commenting one too many times on her eclectic taste in music. Eventually she fell asleep against his shoulder, and while it was nice of him not to push her off, when the monorail stopped at Iwatodai she elbowed him again for letting her fall asleep in the first place. Spring had started and the sun was setting later, but Minako couldn't shake the dread in her chest, the niggling feeling that her days were getting shorter, not longer.

"You okay with the special?" Junpei asked, and she had to do a double-take when she realised they were already at Hagakure. She rubbed her eyes anxiously.

"Yeah, that'd be great." Minako noticed a bit too late that Junpei had already paid for her meal, and she frowned. "Hey, what happened to 'no sponging off of friends', huh?"

Junpei just grinned. "Wanna eat outside?"

"That would be good, actually," she sighed, touching the back of her hand to her forehead. "I could use the fresh air."

They sat down in the middle of the steel spiral staircase to the left of Hagakure, and God help anyone who wanted to use the stairs, really. Minako was exhaused, to the point where she could quite easily lay down and take a nap. She stirred her ramen, waiting for it to cool down, and eventually she turned to look at Junpei. The boy was being unusually quiet.

"You really shouldn't have paid for me."

He shrugged. "Consider it an apology. I know I've been, well, a bit of a jerk lately. I wanted to make it up to you."

"You can't be serious," Minako snorted. "You have nothing to apologise for."

"Well, what about the whole 'you and Akihiko-senpai' thing?" Junpei laughed nervously, looking down at his ramen, and Minako rolled her eyes. "You know, I... I guess I really wanted for you to be able to rely on me -"

"Junpei -"

"- but I'm always screwing things up, and -"

"Junpei." She spoke louder this time, nudging his arm with an elbow. "You have no idea how much I rely on you. So just stop, okay?" He looked away, refusing to meet her eyes, and Minako sighed. "Besides, you were right about the whole Akihiko-senpai thing. It hasn't even been a month yet, and I know I've been making a big deal about it, and... and I like him. A lot. But you know what? No matter how much I like him, you're the best friend I've got. And I love you for it."

Minako wanted to let her legs hang off the edge of the steps, past the railing, but when she tried she had nothing to lean back against and she was so tired, really, like she couldn't support her own weight even while she was sitting down. She sighed and started to shift, but suddenly there was a weight against her back, warm and reassuring, and when she turned her head to look she caught a glimpse of the side of Junpei's face and his obnoxious grin, looking over his shoulder to meet her eyes. It was comfortable, like leaning against a rock warmed by the sun, and she wanted to laugh or smirk or something, but somehow the silence was enough. Just this. Back to back with her best friend.

"...Hey, have you heard that rumour?" She eventually asked, absently picking at her noodles.

Junpei's words started at the base of his spine and travelled up through his lungs. "What rumour?"

"Well, apparently if you eat the Hagakure special bowl with a friend, you'll be friends forever." She could feel the laugh start in his belly, already knew the way he'd wrinkle his nose and bite his lower lip before breaking into an all-out grin. They both looked over their shoulders at each other at exactly the same time, and the brim of Junpei's cap knocked against Minako's forehead and they cracked up, setting down their ramen bowls and doubling over with laughter.

"As if we need any help," Junpei managed to choke out, nudging her in the back with an elbow as the pair fell into another fit of giggles.

It was really hard to be back to back with someone when you kept wanting to turn your head to see them.

* * *

"Stop, Yuka-tan! Don't attack me, this is co-op, not versus!" Junpei all but wailed, jerking back and bumping Minako's shoulder, as if wildly shaking his COMPstation Portable would break the wi-fi connection. Yukari just snickered from the opposite couch, hitting random buttons on Minako's hand-me-down handheld console - for someone who had never played a video game before, she learned fast.

"Hey, Stupei, your green bar thing's turned orange!"

"Player killer!" He hissed. "I'm dead! I can't re-spawn until you clear all the enemies, Yuka-tan."

"Piece of cake," Yukari replied, and Minako couldn't help but smirk when she heard the GAME OVER music start up a few seconds later.

"Hey!" Yukari shouted, glaring at the dead sprites on the screen. "What? How did I..."

The two continued to argue while Fuuka met Minako's gaze over her laptop, raising her eyebrows in exasperation. Minako just shook her head and shrugged in response, trying to suppress a yawn as she went back to reading, not that it helped. She could barely hold her head up, and the words were running together and not making much sense at all.

"What are you reading, Minako-chan?" Fuuka asked from the opposite couch, closing her laptop and craning her neck forward so she could see.

"The last Witch Detective book," she replied, dog-earing the page and passing it to the other girl, who looked it over suspiciously. "I've read all of them, so I could lend you the first one, if you like." Once I get it back from Akihiko, she thought to herself wryly.

"Hey, you never did tell me how it ended," Yukari said suddenly, ignoring Junpei's exaggerated eye-roll. "I haven't had time to read them."

"Mariabelle dies," Junpei cut in with an utterly wicked grin, and both Yukari and Fuuka gasped and said 'no!', turning to Minako for confirmation. She wanted to be furious at him for not including spoiler tags in his general speech, but she just nodded, rubbing her eyes. She really needed some sleep. "And then Edmund kills himself," Junpei added, shaking his head and giving her a disappointed look.

"It's not exactly like that," Minako objected wearily. She propped her chin in her palm and leaned her elbow against the armrest before she tried to continue.

"He's a really old vampire, and he doesn't need blood anymore. So he buries himself with her. As her body rots, a small seed appears where her heart used to be, and the plant starts to grow through him, but he still refuses to leave her. Eventually a branch pierces his heart and he dies. But the tree keeps growing, and every year on the equinox it bears the most beautiful fruit, white on the outside but red as flesh on the inside. If you touch the fruit while it's still on the tree, it's almost like you can feel a pulse, a heartbeat."

"...Wow. That's kind of... morbid," Junpei finally said, breaking the silence.

"No, it's not. Not really. It's a happy ending. In death, she had him forever." Minako yawned again, then stood up shakily. "I hate unrequited love stories. Because if you love someone, like, really, really love them, you should get be with them. There's nothing sadder than wasted love. But, I guess that works better for books and manga and video games and stuff. When it comes to real life... Well, just because it's real, doesn't mean it's gonna work."

The girls nodded contemplatively, though when her eyes slid past Junpei's, he was the saddest she could ever remember seeing him. Her vision started to blur.

"Hey," Minako said, starting to pull the bobby pins out of her hair. "I'm a bit tired. I think I'm going to go to bed early tonight."

She tried her best to smile at the chorus of 'goodnights', sliding her hand along the banister as she pulled herself up the stairs. Something shifted in her peripheral vision and Minako straightened up immediately, instinct forcing her weary limbs into a defensive position, only to end up face to face with the blonde girl she'd seen following them yesterday. The girl tensed and headed further down the corridor, and damn, she was fast.

"No, wait," Minako called out, trying to catch up. "I'm Arisato Minako. You're the only person I haven't met in this dorm, and we're going to be seniors this year, so..."

The girl turned slowly, bright blue eyes sharp and piercing, and just looking at her made Minako's breath catch in her throat. Junpei was right. She was beautiful.

"Yes," she murmured softly, as though speaking to herself. "I am Aigis. ...It is nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Aigis." Minako replied, leaning against the wall. Aigis stepped forward, reaching out as if to steady her, but Minako just shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not feeling too great tonight. But hey, you should sit with us at graduation tomorrow."

Something flickered over the girl's face, a crack in the stoic mask, but she recovered quickly. "I would... love to." Minako did her best to smile, reaching out to take Aigis's offered hand and pull herself forward. As soon as her bare fingers touched the fabric of the girl's winter uniform, she felt a sharp jolt, static electricity. It seemed to crackle all the way up her arm right to her temple, and she winced, rubbing circles along the side of her skull. The blonde girl gasped, backing away.

"I... I'm sorry," she stuttered, and before Minako could tell her it wasn't her fault the girl ran down the corridor, flinging open the door to her room and slamming it shut. Minako sighed. Way to make a good first impression. The girl would probably never speak to her ever again.

She gritted her teeth, making her way down the hall and all but stumbling into her own room.

* * *

It was past midnight and no matter how tired she felt she still couldn't sleep, as though her body were trained to keep functioning into the early hours of the morning. Minako tossed and turned, flinging off her covers, and eventually she gave up and dragged herself out of bed. Kneeling at her open window, she rested her arms against the window sill and her chin on the bridge made by her interlocked fingers. The stars were dim tonight, lost in the city's light pollution, but she did her best to find the few constellations she knew, Orion's belt and the Gemini.

She felt that familiar shift behind her eyes, and she was too tired to fight it tonight, really, the restless currents eroding what was left of her resolve. She gave up. She let go of every fragment, every shard of memory she had collected, Junpei's bright smile and Yukari's biting laugh, Fuuka's not-so-bad cooking Mitsuru's downward gaze Ken and Phoenix Ranger Featherman R Shinjiro's pensive frown Koromaru sitting at her feet to warm her up in winter Aigis becoming so much more than just machinery Akihiko's rough hands Akihiko Akihiko Akihiko and she couldn't remember anything without him, wondered how so little time could amount to so much but it was all swept away in the undertow, all coming together there, bits of nonsense and threads of things long forgotten winding together into that big something she'd been working so hard to find.

And it hurt so much she could barely breathe, as though she was drowing, water pooling in her lungs and weighing her down, the surge of something bright and vital within her core nearly tearing her apart. She bit the back of her hand to stop the anguished keening rising up from her chest until it receded, and gasped for air, the sudden shift between not breathing and too much oxygen sending her lungs into painful overdrive. Covering her mouth with her hands, she drew in slow, steady breaths, riding each wave as it came -

_distance itssofarmyeyesstarttohurt tryingtoseeitall imalwayslosing tiredoflosing (tiredofsurviving) whatsimportant whatsimportant? worktoprotect whatsprecioustome everythingprecious_

_including you  
_

_ifeelalltenseandonedge_

_Well then... Here's hoping for the best, right?_

"I thought... I thought I'd have a lot more time," she admitted quietly, to no one in particular.

Because Minako knew that tomorrow defined the limit of what she kept thinking of as forever, and the thought made her want to cry, and laugh, and probably cry some more. Something stirred in the sea of her soul, the thirteenth arcana, her trump card, the end of one cycle and the transition to the next. The memory that came with it was enough to finally break her. She turned away from the stars and leaned against the patch of wall underneath her window, untouched by the sliver of moonlight that spilled into her room.

"Miracles don't last forever," she repeated, closing her eyes. "If only they did. Even if there was a thing as eternity, how would we ever know? It would be the same as if it didn't exist."

No. What mattered was that it happened. History could choose forget every moment, but as long as she lived, she was the curator of what had happened to her, the only point of reference left.

Tears welled up in her eyes and there was a discernible ache in her chest, a feeling of being completely and totally whole, and all she could think was please. You can take everything else away from me, but please.

Just let me keep these memories.

Her elbows resting against her knees and her head buried in her hands, she waited for morning to come.

* * *

...

**DISCLAIMER: ...no, not yet. :(**

**(meow)FACTORY INSTRUCTIONS:** havesomehats[.]deviantart[.]com[/]art[/]not-today-9558784

The next track is 'we looked like giants', and it breaks my heart.


	10. we looked like giants

_and I held you closer  
than anyone would ever get_

**10. we looked like giants**  
05/03/2010

They had all left without her.

Akihiko waiting at the door, tilting his head back to let Mitsuru adjust his starched collar and smooth her hands over his jacket lapels. Mitsuru barely suppressing a smile as Akihiko straightened the red ribbon at her neck, making sure the ends were of even length. The pair had set off early to prepare for the ceremony, and even though Akihiko had crept into her room just before he'd left, Minako had pretended to be asleep. She'd barely had the energy to smile as he pulled her covers up to her shoulders, brushing back her fringe before leaning in to press his cheek against hers, not even for a kiss - just that, the side of his nose pressed against hers, eyelashes ghosting against her cheekbone when he closed his eyes. She could feel the stretch in his skin when he smiled, the tightness in his jaw relaxing for once, and she had wanted so badly to reach out and touch him but he was already pulling away, the distance too far to cross.

She was running late when Junpei knocked on her door, Yukari's shrill laughter at his heels while Fuuka nagged them about the time from the hallway. Her hands were shaking as she let them in, trying in vain to contain her messy hair with her signature bobby pins. In the end Minako sat on the edge of her bed while Yukari did it for her, with Junpei consulting her class timetable and packing the appropriate books in her bag. Her uniform jacket was still un-ironed and she couldn't for the life of her find a pair of knee-high socks, and eventually she had just told them to go. I'll catch up, she'd said, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Yukari had given her a hug and Junpei had ruffled Minako's hair, causing Yukari to squawk indignantly as she pushed him out the door.

Alone, she sat on her swivel chair, propping her feet up on the desk as she pulled on her last clean pair of white knee socks. She'd have to get around to doing her laundry after school today. A brief wave of panic washed over her when she couldn't find her MP3 player in her desk drawers, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she found that Junpei had packed it in her bag along with her headphones. Absently, she straightened the things on her desk - an empty glass, a pencil holder, Akihiko's notebook, the final Witch Detective novel, her music box...

Last night she had all but torn her room apart, uncovering all the relics of friendships past. A charred screw and an almost phosphorescent ring, her leather watch and a stuffed rabbit. House keys on an odd pig key-chain. Everything that would fit had found a place in the music box, along with her spare bobby pins and ticket stubs from last year's film festival. Petty things that would outlive her.

And just for a second, she wondered - without her recollection as a reference point to inflect the past with meaning, would history too forget the importance these objects had been imbued with by the people that had given them to her?

The only complete survivor of the Fall sat alone in a room. There was a knock on the door.

Sucking in a sharp breath, she grabbed on to the edge of her desk as she tried to fight off the haziness behind her eyes. She let her legs fall to the floor, the unexpected tingle of pins-and-needles working its way up her ankles and into her calves.

"It's me, Aigis." Her voice was muffled through the door, but Minako could hear her clear as day, and for a few moments she forgot to breathe. "May I please come in?"

She stumbled to the door, pulling it open, and the first thing she saw was Aigis's eyes, bright, bright blue, like the spring skies beyond her window pane.

"...I remember everything." She said firmly, and Minako felt her heart constrict even though there was a weight lifting from her chest. She had needed someone else to say it, to know for certain that she wasn't losing her mind, that this was all real. That she was running out of time.

"It's just that, when I remembered, I was afraid you might go somewhere far away, like you did at the last battle..." Aigis let out a breath, and Minako was suddenly aware of her in a strangely biological way, the rhythmic whirring of her inner machinery superimposed over the sound of her own faint breathing, until the two coalesced and could no longer be considered distinct from one another.

"Don't worry," Minako said softly, surprised by just how easy it was to lie, "that won't happen."

And Aigis smiled.

Graduation was today, and the ceremony had already begun. Together and in silence, the pair made their way down the stairs and to the front door. Spring was here and the sun was shining, their shadows going on forever behind them as they made their way to the station. Out of habit, Minako slipped her headphones over her ears and fiddled with her MP3 player, turning up the volume and pressing play.

A chill wind bit at her heels, and it buffeted past her with such force that for a moment all she could hear was static.

* * *

"You are tired," Mitsuru chided, running a hand through her hair. "It's graduation day, and you are tired."

"I'm not tired," Akihiko said quickly, then yawned before he could stop himself. Mitsuru raised an eyebrow and he averted his gaze. "I don't need rest. I can sleep when I'm dead."

She scoffed and started to say something else, but caught sight of Ekoda beckoning her further in to the auditorium. She settled for a sigh instead. He walked Mitsuru to the foot of the steps to the stage, and broke the silence before he really knew what he was going to say.

"I wish Shinji was here." Mitsuru turned sharply, studying him for a moment, then laid a hand on his forearm, slow and deliberate, fingers fanned out and tensed. He smiled and clasped her hand in his own, and she turned her head and hid behind her fringe. This was her non-verbal equivalent of 'me too'. She had done the same thing, that night in October, when Shinji had been admitted to the hospital and Aki had disappeared into an empty hallway, away from the eyes of the juniors, to finally let himself fall apart.

Out of everyone, Mitsuru knew the difference between what he wanted and what he needed. He'd never been able to return the favour, not really, not even when her father passed a matter of weeks later. Now there was a discernible distance between them, the cause of which he couldn't quite put his finger on, as though the ties that had bound them together had frayed into nonexistence.

"...His attendance has been dismal. He'll have to repeat senior year." She shook her head and they both kind of laughed, their eyes meeting accidentally, and Akihiko looked away while Mitsuru extricated her fingers from his grasp. The problem with the two of them was that she always knew what he was thinking, and he never knew what to say. A relationship based not on words but gestures, furtive glances and half-formed assumptions. Less than friends but more than the sum of their parts.

"Yeah. But still, I wish..." he trailed off, rubbing his eyes and trying to suppress another yawn. "I wish a lot of things."

Takeba and Yamagishi filed into the auditorium, Iori trailing behind them. Minako's absence carried its own paradoxical weight, a heavy non-presence at Junpei's side. The first twinges of worry began to creep up the back of Akihiko's neck, but for once Mitsuru did not know what to say, and he could not tell what she was thinking.

"Next, a word from the valedictorian..."

Mitsuru pursed her lips and turned to ascend the stairs, but Akihiko grabbed her arm before she could leave.

"Good luck," he said quietly, even though he knew she didn't need it, and let go. She smiled absently, donning her queenly mask and taking her place at the stage as he went to find himself a seat among the other seniors.

Perhaps she was right, and he really was tired. This was it. High school was over. Now what? He frowned. For all his good grades and extracurricular activities, he didn't really have a plan for the future. He didn't particularly want to do anything with his life, nor was he... No, he was passionate, but about what? All he had been thinking about was training. He didn't want to be a professional boxer, did he? Akihiko wrinkled his nose and slipped out of his uniform jacket, rubbing his knuckles through his gloves.

He'd wanted to fight. He knew that much about himself. Each bruise an accusation, every left hook an apology, broken bones a small penance to pay for those he'd failed to protect. His parents, Miki, Shinji. A decade spent in a constant state of collapse. Akihiko surreptitiously glanced around, looking for Minako's copper coloured hair, and tried to push down the sick sort of tension building up in his throat. He had always carried his worry in his chest, had always been the anxious type, controlling and protective and ready to strike, charging ahead with no consideration of the consequences.

Leaning back in his seat, he swallowed, feeling jittery for no good reason. Mitsuru had been talking and he hadn't heard a word of it, lost in his own disjointed monologue, and there would be hell to pay if she found out he hadn't been paying attention. She faltered. Akihiko frowned, looking up at her as the rest of the student body began to buzz, watching her eyes dart over her cue cards in panic. His head felt heavy, and he rested his elbows against his knees and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, rubbing until he saw fireworks.

Minako wasn't here. The last day they'd get to spend at school together, and she was nowhere to be seen. Akihiko couldn't stop the utterly irrational anxiousness building up inside his chest, like he had forgotten something terribly important, and the memory he needed was just out of his reach. His head buried in his hands, he waited for the hint of a spark -

_"Can you at least sit up here? ...Here." _He'd pulled her up to sit beside him on the horizontal bar, a gloved hand at the small of her back to keep her steady, and she had been so unusually tense and quiet, fingernails cutting into her palms -

- frowning, trying to figure it out. _"Oh, I get it... Do you think those girls wanted to have Beef Bowls, too?"_

_"...Not in the way you think."_ She'd smirked and he bit his lip, still didn't quite get it, and she'd started laughing, breathless -

_"Is it true you're going out with Junpei?" _His hands balled up into fists, grinding his teeth in his jaw, wanting desperately for her to deny it but knowing he wouldn't really believe her if she did.

_"What? No! He's just a friend. Please don't get the wrong idea -_

- violence, holding the barrel of a gun to his forehead, and Mitsuru had always complimented him on the fact that he never hesitated, never wavered. His knuckles sinking into the flesh of another Shadow, as though that was all he was living for. Whether it was by instinct or design he had always known where to strike, when to shift, took a sick amount of pleasure in those few moments when an enemy would get the better of him and he could feel the chill in his bones, his body colliding against the concrete and his neck snapping back as he hit the ground. Until he had to follow her lead. And watching her in battle, seeing the flicker of... something shift across her face every time she healed his wounds, he started to wonder - what would it take for her... for them to stop, to stop fighting -

_"She's dead and gone... I understand that, and I've accepted it. But... I can't do anything about the anger and sadness that I feel. I thought... I wanted you to help me bear that burden. I know that it's terrible of me to ask this of you..."_

A shift in his heart when Polydeuces ceased to cry out for his twin, perhaps joining him amongst the stars as Caesar rose to take his place. Because Akihiko was always half of a set, and always the one who got left behind. Always on the losing side...

That day on the roof, staring out into the distance, he'd turned to her and said, _"I feel all tense and on edge. It's the weirdest thing."_

Her face an inch from his, she had smiled, mischievously enough so that whatever she said next could be considered a joke. _"You're in love."_

And at first he was kind of surprised, and a little confused, but then he'd thought about it and said to himself, yeah, okay. Because he knew her. He'd known her his whole life, and he had been waiting, waiting all these years for her to make an appearance. Not because she was Miki, not because she was anything like Miki, but because when he looked at her he thought about the future instead of the past, about growing old together, knowing every line that was etched in her skin as if it were his own. A lifetime of Sunday mornings, someone warm to hide away with, to come home to...

"I... We...!" Akihiko stood up unconsciously, scarcely seeing the juniors do the same, for his eyes were locked on Mitsuru's, and when she paused to take a breath he called out to her.

"Mitsuru!" His eyes said _I'm not leaving you behind, I remember, I remember everything, but I... _She nodded almost imperceptibly, eyes bright as she leapt from the stage, Junpei cheering and Yukari pulling her into a hug.

He ran.

* * *

The sunlight felt good against her skin, Aigis's soft voice overlapping with the sound of the breeze, and Minako was content to lie quietly on the floor of the roof, head resting against concrete. The tone of her voice was almost musical, and she knew Aigis just needed her to listen, as they all did, at one point or another, and she did her best to fight off the drowsiness, nodding and smiling when she could.

"You don't have to save the world to find meaning in life... Sometimes, all you need is something simple, like someone to take care of."

She wanted to tell Aigis something that someone had once told her, that the meaning of our lives is something that we make but don't see, but she didn't have enough air in her lungs to form the words. Instead, she let Aigis pull her up into a hug, and for a moment she swore she could feel the firm staccato of a heartbeat pulsing through the other girl's body.

"Thank you for everything..." she spoke softly, right in Minako's ear, pulling away with a smile as the door to the roof creaked open.

Minako could barely stand on her own, and she grabbed onto the railing tightly as Aigis headed for the door, murmuring something on the stairwell before breaking into a run to meet the others in the hallway. She turned, hearing footsteps and ragged breathing headed toward her, and she tried her best to smile as she pulled in a deep breath of her own.

"Are you alright?" Akihiko gasped, and it was almost always the first thing Akihiko would ever say to her after being apart for too long, like he was constantly wary of something happening to her while he wasn't there.

"You're already out of breath?" Minako said, shaking her head. "What good's all that training if you can't even clear a few flights of stairs?"

He laughed between breaths. "Thank God. I couldn't find you, and... I thought you might've gone off somewhere..." The words hung heavy between them, but Minako just shook her head, letting him pull her into a tight embrace. The wool of his sweater vest was scratchy against her cheek, but she leaned in closer, circling her arms around his waist.

"That's me, you know. I'm always fine." She mumbled against him, feeling a sigh escape his chest.

"Until you're not." He replied, stroking the back of her neck, and Minako had to fight to keep her eyes open.

"Yeah," she laughed shakily, "until I'm not." She smiled, a smile that was meant to be reassuring and strong and nearly was.

"I remember now," he said quietly, rubbing her arms and stepping back so he could look at her. "Everything that happened. The fighting, Tartarus, all of it... And how I fell in love with you... I'm sorry I forgot it all..." He trailed off, looking at the ground, and Minako just leaned in against him so her back was pressed to his chest, his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She pulled him down to the ground with her.

'Love' felt like the wrong word, it carried an overly typical connotation for what was between them. Because the night Orpheus had whispered in her ear, explaining the true cost of the Great Seal, she had known, despite everything, that she would be coming back home. That no matter what happened, she would have just a little more time here, with him. And perhaps they had not truly recognised each other throughout her short second life, but that was okay. This was enough.

"Akihiko," she said quietly, testing out his name on her tongue. It felt odd, after all these months. "...Maybe we can get it right this time."

He laughed, and when she turned her head up to look at him he looked like exactly the person he was meant to be. "It's right, Minako. It's always been right," he said earnestly, and her eyes felt hot and wet and were starting to sting.

He rested his head atop hers, wrapping his arms around her tightly. With her back against his chest, she could feel the steady rhythm of their hearts beating, out of synch but in tune.

The faint sound of footsteps and cheering drew near, and within the rabble Minako could hear Junpei's voice, the loudest of all, greeting Aigis in the corridor.

"At least we'll have a goodbye this time," she said, mostly to herself, wishing more than anything that she could preserve this moment, press it flat like dried flowers between a phone book, to frame and keep and love forever.

"But everyone remembers now," Akihiko said lightly, as if she'd said something silly. Minako just smiled, and nodded, and did her best not to let the tears fall, knowing for certain that something vital and alive and irreplaceable was escaping the confines of her ribcage with every breath she took.

Spring was here and today really was a beautiful day, the bite of the breeze dulled by the sunlight and Akihiko's warm, too-tight embrace. Minako closed her eyes, letting her head fall against his chest, resting on the spot where his heart was supposed to be. The curve of her spine sent her eyes to the sky, filtered daylight and bright, bright blue registering as nothing more than vague red behind her eyelids. He made to speak, she could tell by the way the air in his lungs gathered and shifted to form words, but she was already sinking, or floating, or maybe it was a bit of both...

Drowning.

The weight of the world held within her lungs, each breath felt smaller and more strained than the last, the sea of her soul reaching out to engulf her as the sunlight relinquished its embrace. And there was a voice, from somewhere just at the edge of her consciousness, a lone figure calling out to her from the shore, though she was too far adrift to really make out the words. She strained to listen over the swell of the tide, and it was the sweetest, saddest sound she'd ever heard, one last perfect note breaking through the silence as water pooled in her lungs and the darkness behind her eyelids flickered bright white.

"And starting now, we'll never be

* * *

* * *

x

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Sorry about the wait! 'We Looked Like Giants' is my favourite song on Transatlanticism, and it is worth a listen.  
(( www[.]youtube[.]com[/]watch?v=mwAUca79c4o ))

Sorry I keep glossing over the Aigis scenes, but it's like... I don't really have anything to add to her game script, and come on, we've all played the game like fiftymillion times, amirite? (fun fact: I still haven't finished my second playthrough of P3P. laaame.) Also I can't let anyone else use the 'Aki' nickname except for Shinjiro because I'm weird like that so my apologies for that as well.

ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND. Watch it if you haven't already. If you have then you probs knew that that's where this monstrosity of a fic came from.

Thank you to each and every one of you who subscribed and favourited and reviewed (ESPECIALLY those of you who reviewed, I always have my :D-face on when I read them), you are all too lovely. My general method of writingz is starting with a ridiculous idea and staying the course no matter how terrible/plodding/pointless it ends up. I'm so glad you rode along with me on this one.

The last track is 'a lack of colour' and it will be up as soon as it's done. Brace for imminent angst.


	11. a lack of color

sorry about the wait, but hey, it's like a christmas present from me-ow to you! four-twenty-two is vaguely significant, I'm sure you'll get it. shinji/clocks is canon in my head. it's summer in australia but the rain keeps coming. hope you all have a loverly christmas, make sure you eat lots of pudding for me.  
love love love, meowfactory

xox

* * *

_I'm re__**a**__ching for the __**p**__hone  
to call at seven-oh-three  
__**a**__nd on your machine, I slu__**r**__ a plea  
for you to come home  
but I know it's too late  
and I should have given you  
a reason to s__**t**__ay__**.**_**  
**  
**11. a lack of color**

Death was a process rather than an event. It took a few days, though Akihiko knew it was over before it had even begun. Something about the rain, maybe, the way it started up in defiance of spring almost as soon as she was admitted to hospital. The doctors couldn't find anything physically wrong with her in the beginning, until the cardiac arrhythmia came on. Bradycardia, a word he only knew the meaning of because of his constant training. His resting heart rate was so low. Maybe that was why he hardly reacted when they discovered the fluid building up in her lungs, Mitsuru all but commanding the doctors to find the cause while he just sat there, watching the symptoms.

He felt distinctly apart from the rest of them, their tears and gritted jaws and too quiet voices, felt like no one in the grand scheme of things, an intruder in their grief. Shinji had always teased him about being a crybaby but he wasn't crying now, just held her hand tight, tighter still when he remembered she couldn't squeeze back, and held his breath as the machines that had so quickly become an extension of her emitted a distressed beeping before the inevitable flatline.

It all seemed outside the scope of his reality. Junpei almost shouting, Yukari sobbing, Mitsuru's nails cutting crescents into her palms. Shinji finally conscious and standing just behind him, Ken gripping the edge of his weather-beaten coat, the rain hitting the window pane with renewed force. A copy of a copy of a moment miles away. Noise pollution.

Wordlessly, he stood, let go and walked out the door, not caring that he could hear someone following him. He kept searching until he found a silent hallway and leaned against the wall, letting himself sink to the floor. Barely acknowledging Shinji's presence beside him, they sat shoulder to shoulder, and for the first time he could remember he was thankful for the fact that Shinji wasn't much for talking. He felt physically ill but could not pinpoint the exact origin of his sickness; maybe in his lungs, his stomach, his blood, from heart to artery, vein to capillary.

"Four-twenty-two," Shinjiro said under his breath, and Akihiko looked over to see him fiddling with Minako's watch, the one a nurse had removed to replace with a plastic hospital bracelet. Levering off the backing, Shinji deftly pried out the battery before putting it back together. He ran his thumb over the scratched glass face, watch hands oblivious to the fact that time carried on whether they kept it or not, and somehow seemed satisfied.

"That's..." Akihiko trailed off, staring intently at his face. _That's hers_. He swallowed, willing Shinji to look him in the eye for once. He couldn't play this game right now, couldn't afford to guess what he was thinking because Aki always ended up guessing wrong.

"I gave it to her," Shinjiro eventually said, focusing on the bridge of Akihiko's nose. That didn't stop him from seeing the warmth behind Akihiko's eyes go cold - not exactly angry, not even betrayed. It was more akin to the dull sadness of overcast days or gathering rainclouds, a quality Aki's eyes had had for ten years now. Akihiko nodded mutely, turning his head to stare blankly at the wall in front of him, and Shinjiro got the distinct feeling that this was not over, that Aki would let it fester for a while before he felt the crunch of his knuckles against his jaw.

Akihiko could hear the click-clack of Mitsuru's boots getting closer, and he didn't really want to deal with her, not right now. She turned the corner with her eyes rimmed red and her lips pressed in a tight line.

"What are you doing?"

Shinjiro was ready to field the question, to tell her to lay off, because from the corner of his eye he saw Aki do that thing he used to do whenever conversations turned to Miki. His jaw shifted and he started inhaling before he finished exhaling, his hands trembling like he couldn't stay still, like he just couldn't stand it. And for all the training regimes and powdered protein in the world Aki was still that same little kid he used to be, thin skin and bird bones and too much tendon. The difference was Akihiko kept getting orphaned again and again.

"She's dead," Akihiko cut in bluntly, rubbing his eyes with the sharp of his wrist. "She's dead and I'm tired of _losing_ -" And that was all it took, really. Admitting that he didn't much want to survive this time round, that he was done. He buried his face in his hands and cried, Shinji rubbing his back and Mitsuru just standing there for a few moments before eventually crouching down to gingerly wrap an arm around his shoulders. Her grip was surprisingly warm but Akihiko felt a chill in the marrow of his bones, felt as though he would never be warm again.

* * *

Maybe time was made of watch hands after all. If he hadn't been counting the hours, he'd have sworn he was living the same day over and over.

The rain had woken him up earlier than usual and he spent a good hour lying in bed staring at the ceiling, feeling disgusted with himself yet absently wondering just how long he could stomach lying there doing nothing. It probably should have bothered him that the answer was _forever_. When he did eventually pull himself out of bed and got dressed his body moved of its own accord, dragging him up the steps and to the third floor.

Akihiko waited in the open doorway of her room, and for a few minutes let himself believe that things were still okay. Her alarm clock was still set, went off at exactly six-fifty-eight every morning, and Akihiko just stood there through the shrill sound, waiting for it to die out of its own accord. The silence that followed the alarm was heavy, and Akihiko could almost feel it as a living thing, shifting and dispersing as he slowly made his way into her room, hovering nervously over her desk.

There was a sense of timelessness here, things kept untouched and preserved, like dead butterflies in glass boxes. The simple truth was that she would never again read a book cover to cover or study her reflection in a mirror. Outlived by petty objects, paper and receipts and notes in shorthand, bobby pins and elastics. Small, tiny signs of life, physical proof that she hadn't yet been ready to leave. Or perhaps that she would be coming back, and everything should remain as it was for that day.

Today was the last day of finals for the juniors, and the first day that Akihiko would start packing, filled with a sort of grim resignation, determined to be out of here before March was through. Mitsuru, whether business-minded or secretly hurting inside, saw no reason to keep the dorm open any longer, and he was inclined to agree. The sooner he was no longer here, the sooner this place was closed, the sooner it became a remote and secret temple housing the life they used to live, an hour too long... well. He absently wondered whether leaving would stop his body from dragging itself here when his mind wandered, to fall to rest amongst the dust and stillness and what was left of her.

"Hey." The voice startled him, and Akihiko looked up to see Junpei shifting from foot to foot in the doorway, nervously shuffling the papers he held in his hands. "...She lent me her notes at the start of term. Thought I should bring them back, finally." Junpei swallowed, glancing at the desk, then eventually just held the papers out to Akihiko and let out a long breath when he finally took them.

"...She really hates math, huh?" Akihiko said wryly, an unconscious smile tugging at his lips as he glanced through her notes - loopy cursive and scribbles and hearts in the margins.

Junpei snickered. "You know she actually didn't clock Final Fantasy XII once she realised some of the Marks only show up a percentage of the time. She couldn't be bothered working out the probability." Akihiko raised an eyebrow and Junpei started laughing, and even though Akihiko had no idea what Junpei had just said, he found himself laughing as well.

"We're going to be late." Another voice came from the doorway, cold and clipped - Yukari, donning her pink cardigan and absently twirling a clear umbrella. Akihiko felt the laughter die in his throat, as though he had just remembered it was too soon, and he wasn't meant to be laughing yet.

"We've got tons of time," Junpei shrugged, looking past her as she wandering into the room. "Is it still raining out?"

"Look out the window, Stupei," she snapped back, though it lacked the usual edge. "What does it look like?"

"Jeez. I was just trying to make conversation. Why do you always have to be such a..."

Akihiko had stopped listening, mainly because Yukari had wandered over to Minako's desk and picked up the final Witch Detective book, flicking through it and opening it up to random pages. She was leaning on the edge of the desk now, and Akihiko saw the rest of Minako's books shift backward ever so slightly, pushing against the base of her study lamp.

"Put it back," he heard himself say, without thinking, and though the voice was his the tone was new, even to him.

"Senpai?" Yukari stood up straight, still clutching Minako's book, though she seemed to understand now, her jaw slackening as she looked down at the battered copy of Witch Detective in her hands.

For so long no one had touched anything. Everything had been preserved, because Minako was the last one to finish reading that book, Minako had placed the remote to the television on the window sill, Minako had left the door to her closet slightly ajar. Yukari slowly placed the book back down on her desk, but the damage was done. He wanted to shout, maybe, to hit something, because while he was furious with the other girl he was also distinctly relieved, as though the simple act of shifting her things had broken some spell, set him free in some tiny measure. Yukari bolted out of the room, Junpei at her heels, though he did stop and almost ask his senpai if he was alright. One look at those eyes and he'd reconsidered.

Akihiko sighed, his pain receding, and he almost wished he was angry again because this emptiness was getting too heavy to bear, dulling his instincts, making him consider sitting down and not getting back up again.

There on her desk was the music box he had given her at Christmas, the rabbit doll that had reminded him of her when he saw it in a shop window. And underneath the latter, his own exercise book from a couple of years back, the one Minako had sneakily tried to get answers from when she found out Ms. Miyahara set the same homework from the same textbook every year. He let out a sharp breath, an exhale shaped like a 'ha', and opened up the notebook, turning to the back cover. It was still there. A note written in purple felt-tip marker and her messy scrawl. Of all the notes to leave him, it had to be about the weather.

He felt his heart jump up into his throat, and could barely breathe as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled a number from memory, placing the receiver to his ear and closing his eyes as it went straight to voicemail.

_"Hey, it's Minako! Leave me a message, and I'll get back to you."_ Her voice was too thin, lacking the echoes, the highs and the lows, the way she was always breathless and dizzy with her own laughter.

"...It's raining, today," Akihiko swallowed, then forced himself to keep speaking. "It's been raining every day." He hung up and walked out the door, down every flight of stairs, not even stopping to grab a jacket as he left the dorm and let the rain soak through his clothes, chilling him to the bone. Water in his eyes, in his throat, trickling down the back of his neck. He felt like he was drowning.

Of course she had waited until he was hers again, completely and totally, before she left him.

* * *

He dreamt of her that night, with the rain still carrying on loudly outside. In his dream they were balanced on the very top of the climbing frame at the shrine, looking down at nothing, surrounded by black. Minako leaned toward him to press her hand against his heart and space flickered and shifted until they were on the school roof, her head against his chest, body cold and heavy in his arms.

The air tasted like salt, like the sea, and somehow Akihiko was acutely aware of the ocean surrounding them in a way he had never noticed before. His heartbeat in synch with the slow swell of the tide, each exhale drowned out by waves crashing against the shore. And though they were so high up, clearly on dry land, somehow there was water lapping at Minako's ankles, reaching out to pull her away.

"Stay," he said to her desperately, shaking her by the shoulders. He could feel the sharp sting of tears in the corners of his eyes and he wanted to turn away so she wouldn't see, but more than that he wanted to see her, to prove to himself that she was still here, that he hadn't lost this time.

"I can't. This is it. I was... we were already running on borrowed time." Her lips didn't move as she spoke, and he realised then that it wasn't real, could never be real, just his own words thrown back at him, replayed in her voice.

"But, I love you," Akihiko said quietly, petulantly, as if it could make all the difference.

She had been the one to bring up the word 'love', the first person to say it to him in as long as he could remember. He had no memory of his parents, and he and his sister and Shinji had been too young, reduced to sharing dinners and blankets and hand-me-down toys, hugs during thunderstorms their chosen currency for showing affection.

"Let me have another chance," he continued, pulling her closer, holding on tight so he wouldn't tremble. "I'd... I'd give everything for another chance."

"I know," she smiled, so sadly, running her fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck. "I know that, Akihiko. But listen. It's going to be alright."

Everything started to fall apart, the blue sky swallowed up by too-white clouds, the sound of the ocean drawing nearer, and she started to say something else but he couldn't hear her over the noise of the earth crumbling apart underneath their feet.

He woke with a jolt as the patter of rain and the first rumbles of thunder continued on, still feeling as though he was falling even though he could feel his mattress against his back. Staying very still, he tried to control his breathing, pressing his index and middle fingers to his wrist to make sure his heart was still beating. Each pulse of lightning briefly illuminated the room, but Akihiko did not bother getting up to draw the curtains, feeling vaguely comfortable in his own element, and eventually his eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off again, this time into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

There was something about the morning after torrential rains, especially in the city, where normally you couldn't hear yourself think over the sound of cars and traffic jams, skyscrapers and flat screen televisions. For once, Akihiko could hear birds in lonely trees, the low hum of insects, maybe. Footsteps in puddles and the drip drip drip of rainwater trickling down gutters. He was wide awake and it was morning, and he was where he kept ending up, where he was meant to be.

He pulled back her curtains to let the sunlight flood in, and he could see all of the dust in the air as it swirled around him and eventually settled on things that were never really meant to have dust on them - her hairbrush, the bobby pins scattered carelessly on her desk, a small bottle of perfume. Her scarf was still draped over the back of her study chair, in case the chill spring wind was too much for her. He had been wrong after all. There was no timelessness here, just old ghosts and things left behind.

He was half-expecting Junpei again, maybe even Yukari, but today it was Shinjiro following him through her doorway, and neither of them knew what to say. Akihiko leant against her desk, trying to remain impassive as Shinji paced the length of her room, hands in his pockets, eyes always returning to the cheery red alarm clock next to her lamp. Eventually he stopped and regarded Akihiko coolly, features pulled into a scowl as he spoke.

"It's White Day, idiot. Aren't you gonna make anything for your girl?"

Akihiko didn't even hesitate, just punched Shinji in the jaw, and he knew it was the wrong thing to do even before he did it but it was the only way they really communicated these days. After all these years, Shinjiro knew how to take a punch, especially from Akihiko, who always led with his left and never held back. He took it in stride, turning his head so Aki wouldn't break his jaw, shifted his weight to throw him off balance and in the process ended up inadvertently hitting Aki in the ribs with his elbow, right where they cracked last spring, knocking the air out of his lungs.

Akihiko collapsed against the door frame, gasping, trying to catch his breath, and could just barely breathe as Shinji steadied him and rubbed his back, running rough circles over the spot where his heart was supposed to be. He flinched, wanting to pull away, to run, because it reminded him too much of the nights when she'd sneak into his room just to lie beside him, tracing her fingers over the bumps of his spine while he smiled into his pillow, pretending to be asleep. What stopped him, then, from gathering her up in his arms and telling her that he loved her?

"I loved her," Akihiko choked out, through shallow breaths, and there was a hint of something in his voice, something that took Shinjiro a while to identify - the sound of someone who wanted to cry but just couldn't. Tiny cracks too small to see or repair, not until he fell all the way apart and it was too late.

Shinji didn't know what to say so he didn't say anything, didn't know whether Akihiko had been laying off the powdered protein or what but he really looked like shit right now, too pale and too skinny, the tendons in his neck sticking out whenever he frowned, which was all the time these days. Not half the kid he used to be, dark circles under his eyes that didn't shine as bright as they used to. And Shinjiro almost found himself wishing they really were kids again because things had been easier back then, where any bad thing that happened could be warded off by a laugh or a hug or a gesture, where the only girl between them had been one they could share.

They descended the stairs and entered the kitchen wordlessly, where Shinji had already preheated the oven and whisked together a mochiko mixture, intending to make chichi dango. Akihiko more often than not got in Shinjiro's way, almost catching himself smiling while Shinji obliviously sported baking powder on the tip of his nose for a good five minutes. It was a struggle, but in the end Akihiko managed to pour mochi batter in a greased pan and pop it in the oven without any significant bodily harm.

Half-buried in a cupboard searching for the cookie cutters he'd seen Fuuka (mis)using all those months back, the ones in the shapes of hearts and stars and moons, he called out to Akihiko, breaking the silence.

"You're leaving?" He swore he could almost hear the gears clicking in Akihiko's head, trying to decipher exactly what he was implying. Eventually he settled on the least worrying assumption.

"Yeah," he laughed shortly, "I forgot to tell you. Mitsuru... well. There's this apartment in Minato-ku. Two bedrooms, close to the station, if you want to go back to Gekkoukan." Paid for by the Kirijo Group, no doubt. Mitsuru's words coming from Akihiko's mouth.

When Shinjiro first woke up, the doctors told him about the holes in his brain. The short-circuiting synapses. Nerve damage. Dead cells and empty space.

_I'm dying. _That was meant to be the first thing Shinji said to him, because Akihiko was always bitching about the fact that he never told him anything. What would he say to him now? Aki looked at him with a face he couldn't forget, the twin he had met when they were just five years old and the world was at their feet. Kings of a concrete wasteland, brothers with a secret history, small boys still.

Funny how it was the stars that eventually burnt out and died, so many pinpricks so far away that you could never really appreciate their loss, while the moon circled on in its lonely orbit, pulling at the tides. Shining stars and mortal sons - fate had never given them a chance at being anything less.

Akihiko was still waiting for an answer so Shinji nodded vaguely, placing the cookie cutters on the counter and turning to the oven so Aki wouldn't see his face. He would wait. Aki would carry this loss in his heart like he always did, and Shinji would see him through it, because that was all he could do. And then, he'd tell him.

Castor slept and Polydeuces was no longer here to lament the loss of his twin, though perhaps he didn't need to, and they had returned to the stars, finally. The distance between them no longer as great as it used to be.

* * *

It was easy enough to break into Gekkoukan on a Sunday. To tell the truth, it wasn't so much 'breaking in' as it was 'finding an open door', but Akihiko had never been one to argue about semantics. He took the stairs two at a time, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding as soon as the door to the rooftop gave way.

Her ashes were buried with her family at Aoyama, a state's length away from him, a grave that had been waiting for her for ten years. It occurred to him, then, that when he passed he would be buried with his sister at Yanaka, the distance even further to cross, as if the fates had conspired to keep lonely ghosts from finding their way back home.

This was the only place left where he could be alone with her, a white box of mochi hearts in hand, the spring air slowly drying up the tiny droplets of water suspended from the underside of the railing. And for once he wasn't standing in anyone else's shadow, bathed in the sunlight, and for the first time in a long time he felt... warm. He reached for his cell phone, dialled her number from memory.

_"Hey, it's Minako! Leave me a message, and I'll get back to you."_

Hang up. Redial.

_"Leave me a message, and I'll get back to you."_

Hang up. Redial.

_"I'll get back to you."_

_Liar_, he thought, and ended up laughing, an anxious, desperate sort of sound. "The sun's..." He rubbed his eyes. "The sun's shining. I think... winter's really over."

He had his regrets but he couldn't carry this guilt forever. Memories were all that was keeping her alive but remembering was killing him, his entire existence in the hands of a dead girl. Already he was cutting, editing, erasing, construing the moments between them as he wanted to remember them, not necessarily as they had occurred. Especially when it came to the last month, glossing over the moments when she had irritated him, when he'd thought her just like any one of those other girls in his fanclub. The moments he felt pushed into, whether by instinct or design or just the need to be polite.

The simple truth was he should have loved her more in that one month they had without the Dark Hour, their one real chance at being normal. He'd messed up.

_Incoming Call - Caller ID Withheld  
Answer?_

The sound of his cell startled him and he stared at the display for a long time, almost considering letting it ring out, letting himself entertain the 'what-if's for whatever was left of his life. Yeah, right. He shook his head and answered, exhaling slowly upon hearing the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey," Shinji said, "alright?"

He pulled in a shuddering breath that seemed to resonate throughout his chest, as though his lungs had expanded to fill the void where his heart was still beating. Something fluttered within the cage of his ribs, unfurling slowly but insistently, all in its own time.

"Yeah," he said, feeling a little older. "I'm okay."

Spring was here, the sun was shining, and today really was the most beautiful day. Yet he felt like autumn leaves, just moments before a breeze.

* * *

He dreamt of her again, and though he knew it wasn't for the last time, not by a long shot, the dream had a sense of finality that was almost frightening. Somehow he knew she would never again appear in such sharp focus, that she would eventually be the victim of a slow and inevitable erasure, a series of moments rather than a whole person. A copy of a copy of a memory of a girl.

He had been walking along an empty road when he saw her, waving to him. She was sitting in front of a house he couldn't consciously remember, though it had a place in his heart. A house that held a mother, a father, a sister. A home. He joined her on the porch, sitting shoulder to shoulder, and she was so warm, really, just as he remembered, her head falling to rest on his shoulder as she laced their fingers together.

"You are everything to me," he said. "Come back and I'll show you."

She shook her head against him. "Let me go," she whispered, biting her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. "You have to let me go."

"I _can't_," he almost shouted, grabbing her tightly by the shoulders and pushing her back so he could see her, memorise every little detail, commit it to memory, like the photographs they never took. His eyes were instead drawn to the house behind her. And looking at that place, he knew, somehow, that if he went through that door he'd never come back. He felt his shoulders sag as she raised her hands to his, loosening his grip, pulling off his gloves for him. Old scars and new scabs, busted knuckles and too much tendon. It was almost funny how his worst weapons could make him look so fragile.

"I love you," she said, mapping the old wounds, tip-toeing her fingers in the dips between his knuckles.

"I know," he swallowed, closing his eyes, and asked whoever was listening not to wake him up just yet.

"We used up all our second chances, huh?" She grinned sheepishly, adjusting the bobby pins in her hair, but he just shook his head solemnly.

"It's not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere."

She laughed, pushing him lightly, laughing even harder when Akihiko grabbed her wrists and pulled her closer, her face nestled in the crook of his neck. "Hey! Don't quote Witch Detective at me!"

"I'm not quoting it _at_ you, I'm quoting it _to_ you."

"And what did I tell you about being smart with me, huh?" They both dissolved into a fit of laughter, Minako's arms around his neck and her hands in his hair, Akihiko's grip on her waist too tight as usual. It was all so familiar, so perfectly in focus. He pressed his forehead to hers, the tips of their noses touching, and for the first time in years felt vibrantly young, like he was still growing into the person he was meant to be. It was enough. Pulling back, he took her hands in hers and squeezed tightly.

"I have to go. I'll... see you soon?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew that he wouldn't be counting down the days. That he could wait, and that he'd be okay. He stood and made his way back to the pavement, only turning back to look at her when he had both feet firmly on the ground.

She smiled softly, like she knew. "I can't promise I'll always be here. But I will always find you. You'll be alright." She waved though they were only a few strides apart, and he felt his heart swell, wondered how it was even possible to love someone so much, to the point where it ached.

Walking away from her, he had the feeling that if he turned to look back she would still be there on the porch, still waving, a tiny figure on the horizon. He took a deep breath and kept walking, feeling light and heavy all at once, his feet moving of their own accord, his chest weighed down by the tension he'd been carrying all his life. Stepping away from something as well as making his way back toward something familiar, the place he'd always return to as long as his heart was still beating.

The sky had no texture, flat monochrome, either the precursor of a coming storm or another remnant of a rainy day. Dull gray, like metal, like concrete, like a mirror in which his eyes were reflected, barely shining half as bright as they used to.

He'd never been much of an optimist but he wouldn't back down from a fight. And walking down that endless road, underneath a dead sky, he pushed away the thought that this was the start of something that might never cease, a cut that would never scar over.

He found himself hoping that when he woke up, the sun would be shining again.


End file.
